Consort of the Boy King
by VooDoo Doll13
Summary: Prompt response for Spn hardcore meme Kink:mpreg. Warning: Non-con, Wincest. See Author's Note for further warnings. Dean is kidnapped and raped as a part of a ritual to become Consort to the Boy King AKA: Sam.  Dark!Sam/Slave!Dean fic.
1. Taken

****

Author's Notes: This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:

_"Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring._

_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean - filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._

_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children."_

**Warnings!** This fic will contain:

**kink: bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: dub-con, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!

* * *

**Chapter One: Taken**

* * *

Dean had felt like he was being watched, had felt it for quite some time, actually, though he had yet to pinpoint from which direction or by whom. Something had felt off all day really, but Dean was at a loss to figure out what it was. He and Sam had separated to search the area for the "freak of the week" they were hunting and right about now, Dean was starting to get the feeling that that had been a very bad idea. He tried to shrug it off and get the job done, like a.s.a.p., but the feeling kept growing steadily and now he was beginning to have that sinking feeling that something really bad was coming just around the next corner, so to speak…About a split second before everything went to Hell, the presence that he had felt lurking around him, watching him, made itself known finally. Of course, being that he was a Winchester, when the proverbial shit hit the fan, it was a big-ass load…

Dean felt hands suddenly fall on him from all sides, pinning his arms back and feet kicking his legs out from under him. He went down hard to his knees, making his bones rattle and his body screamed in protest. He slammed against his captors, fighting violently but there were too many of them and by the time they had the cloth shoved into his throat and tied in place and the bag pull tight over his head, he knew he was in deep shit.

Dean was still writhing forcefully for the duration of the ride to wherever they were taking him, trying so damn hard to break his bonds, trying to work the cloth from his mouth, to get the bag off his head, anything really to give him a chance to get out of whatever the hell this was in one piece. 'Fat fucking chance of that…' he thought ruefully, but still, he wasn't the type to just give up without a fight and the fact that he couldn't help but worry if something similar had been done to Sammy kept him going.

The vehicle, a truck or a van maybe, lurched to a stop finally and Dean could hear the tell-tale sounds of people climbing out: opening and closing doors, hushed voices, etc…until finally the door to the area he was in was thrown open and the moment Dean felt their hands about to make contact with him, he lashed out with his legs as hard as he could. He heard the startled 'oompf!' and the choked breaths and he knew he'd hit at least one of them. He kept thrashing, trying to get free, but his bid for freedom came crashing to a halt for the moment when he felt his head gripped viscously tight then slammed brutally hard into some unforgiving surface or another two, maybe three times. The hits were hard but just shy of knocking him completely out. They did, however, make him dizzy and wozzy and he had to fight back the bile that was trying to claw its way out of his throat. 'Concussion...fucking great...' the thought blearily swam through his mind briefly before flitting away once again. They were able to easily lift his now limp form out of the vehicle after that and all he could do at that point was groan as the jostling movement made his stomach rebel even harder then before. Dean worked hard within himself to get his wits back enough to track the pain and sickness and desperately tried to contain it and push it down. The blows to the head, though, were making it damn near impossible and before he could stop it, the vomit surged up into his throat and mouth. The cloth shoved in his mouth made it so the vomit had no way to escape but that didn't stop his stomach from surging violently, making the putrid fluids pool and build up until Dean was drowning in his own sickness. Dean's body started seizing as he began internally drowning and finally one of his captors noticed that he wasn't just trying to fight them anymore but that he was maybe dying on them...

"Shit, I think he's choking! Hurry up, man, we gotta get his gag out!" the lead man yelled. The men rushed him down the shaft to the compound, plowing through doors and nearly bowling over other followers as they rushed to get him secured in the room he was to be held in. Once the room was locked up tight, the men pinned Dean down and cut the rope holding the gag in place, ripping the cloth free.

The vomit started pouring out of Dean as he choked and thrashed violently as little by little the fluid was pounded out of him and oxygen leaked back in. He only felt the pounding distantly, still too detached from his body to really feel it, but he thought he'd probably feel it later. When enough of the vomit had been forced out, his body took over,, sucking in the great, heaving lungfuls of air his body was shrieking for which made him choke and retch all the harder. When the heaving roils of sickness finally stopped, Dean lay there in an almost stunned stupid state as he wheezed in the precious oxygen and coughed occasionally making his aching throat even more unhappy with him. Dean curled in on himself as best he could with his bonds still in place as he willed his battered body to settle. Distantly, Dean felt hands on him again and he felt himself being lifted onto some sort of higher, hard surface, the change in altitude making his body tingle with sickness again. Dean groaned as he worked to push the sickness down this time and this time he succeeded to keep it at bay, but he could still feel his body tremble with the mis-firing nerves from the vomiting and the near drowning and his stomach was still roiling violently inside him. Dean lay as still as he could, trying not to piss off his aching head and body anymore than he could help. Dean wished he could just pass out and ride out the sickness but without knowing what his captors had in mind or whether or not Sam was ok, Dean couldn't afford to let himself do that. He lay there in a haze, taking in the sounds of voices and people moving around him without processing any of it too deeply. He was still confused and he still felt sick and those two combined were making staying focused very difficult.

"…hold him still and open his mouth…we must stop his sickness so that he will be fit to perform his part in the ritual…" Dean heard some one say quietly nearby as strong hands pinned him again and forced his mouth open. Dean felt something trickling down his throat and he instantly tried to fight it going down but the hands just held him tighter and forced his jaw shut and pinched his nose until he had no choice but to swallow so he'd be able to breathe. Dean choked again, rasping in harsh breaths as the unpleasant liquid slipped into his stomach. It tasted and smelled of herbs, not all of them particularly good tasting and Dean grimaced when they finally let go of his jaw.

"Tastes like ass…" he mumbled.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, you will thank me when that body of yours stops committing mutiny on you, hmm?" the man said with a soft chuckle.

Dean let his eyes slip open to a squint, his head lolling over slowly in the general direction of the man's voice. From what Dean's bleary eyes could see, the man was a priest of some sort, probably a head priest of whatever his cult or religion was, judging by his demeanor and the way others followed his commands.

"What am I doing here…why did you grab me?" Dean asked hoarsely, his throat burned raw by the acidic bile. He was still really fuzzy but he was quite proud of himself for how coherent he sounded and he had to admit that whatever the man had given him had calmed his stomach and head pretty well.

"You, Dean Winchester, are a very special guest indeed! You have a very unique and honored destiny ahead of you, my boy! We are here to prepare you for portions of that journey. Speaking of which, it is now time to begin preparing you…" the priest said enthusiastically.

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**A/N:** Sorry guys, hadn't realized that had f#$ked up my posting til just now...damn thing is getting to be almost as bad as Facebook...Anywho, what do ya think?

P**lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed ****"Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

The links are now current so if you wish to see them, they are handily located on my **Profile**!

I can also get ahold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs*


	2. Light Being Shed

**Author's Notes: This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:**

**_Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring._**

**_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean - filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._**

**_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children._**

* * *

**Warnings!** This fic will contain:

**kink: bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: dub-con, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!

* * *

**Author's Note: ****Sorry for the delay, my lovely readers, but after the RL ass-kicking I've had, I kinda had other things on my mind...anywho...I have alot of this story written and I have a general idea were I want it to go but I just haven't had the time to type it is all. I'm working on typing up what I've hand-written and I will attempt to update more rapidly from now on.**

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

**Light Being Shed**

'Fucking fantastic…' Dean thought bitterly and with a healthy dose of trepidation. The man hit a button by the door. 'Must be some kind of signal to his minions…' Dean guessed. Sure enough, four men flowed into the room from beyond that door.

"Hold him in place again while I give him this potion, then we'll let it work its magic for a few minutes before we ready him to be placed on the altar." The priest said.

The men surrounded him once again, pinning him in place and forcing his mouth open for the priest. Dean fought as best he could but the man was still able to get the majority of whatever the potion was into his mouth and then proceeded to clamp his jaw and nose shut to force him to swallow the concoction to be able to breath. Finally satisfied it had all been swallowed down, the priest signaled the men to let go. Dean coughed violently, the liquid he'd been forced to choke down had been noxious and it had burned all the way down and continued to burn like hellfire in the pit of his stomach.

" 'the fuck was that?" Dean wheezed, curling in on himself as the effects of the potion began burning throughout his body like wildfire.

"GAAAAAHHHHHH!" Dean screamed as the burning feeling sparked in every nerve ending as it hit them. It felt like lightning and a flamethrower were simultaneously raking over him making his whole body feel like a raw, throbbing mess. Dean couldn't help but groan at the sensations he felt. It felt like every nerve was pulsing and at the same time, it felt like ants were chasing themselves under his skin. Dean felt everything acutely, from the subtle shift of the cloth of his shirt to the tightness and tingling in the roots of his hair.

"Let's get him moved and disrobed. The ceremony is set to begin soon." The priest said as he moved to open the door. The men again surrounded Dean and lifted him bodily off the platform or table he'd been laying on and carried him out of the room and down some sort of hall, and into a larger chamber. Every shift and step made Dean's nerves tingle like mad. They set him on some sort of platform, the altar he guessed, that look like some sort of chair or table had been built onto it. The contraption seemed like some sort of combination of a massage table or chair and a dentist's chair but the planes and angles were different. Once he was manhandled onto the contraption, they began simultaneously strapping him down to it and cutting off his clothes.

"NO!" Dean screamed but they paid him no heed and kept going in their tasks despite his wishes and struggles. Finally, one of the men went to cut the amulet Sam had given him so long ago and Dean snapped, going wild with panic and undisguised pain.

"No! No! Please!" Dean screamed as he tore his yet unsecured forearm free from the men and grabbed at his pendant, snatching it away from the man before it could be tossed away and clenching down tight on it with his fist. The men began to try to pry open his hand and pin it down to bind it but the priest intervened.

"Let it be, my children. He may have it if it gives him comfort. It holds no significance or value beyond what he has given it so, I see no reason to take it away. Just let it be." The priest said.

"Thank you…" Dean breathed out begrudgingly even as the man captured his wrist in a brutal grip and tied it tightly to the boards of the contraption.

Dean took sock of his situation. He was tied down to the contraption or table or whatever that was vaguely the shape of a human body. Dean's legs were tied wide apart, and given his now naked state, it left him feeling very vulnerable indeed. He wasn't laying flat however, instead, his hips and lower back were canted up at an angle and his thighs and calves were wrapped up and over the lower boards so that his most private body parts were wide open, exposed to public view for all to see. Dean felt his stomach plummet as he realized some of what was probably in store for him that evening...

"No…please don't do this…" he pleaded brokenly to the priest.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but the components of the ritual are necessary to assure it is successful. You must endure these trials if you are to be given the reward you are destined to receive. Be strong now, Dean Winchester…You are the hope of us all." The priest said, his tone reverent and awed in its fanaticism.

Dean closed his eyes, tears leaking down his temples as he turned away from the crazy-ass priest. 'Sammy…please…if you're out there, come save me from these freakin' fanatical bastards! Please Sammy…please…God Sam, please let that freaky psychic stuff of yours let you hear me or somethin' and come get me the hell outta here! God, if you're out there, please don't let happen…Please…somebody save me…' Dean prayed inside the confines of his own mind. With every pulse and breath he gave out, he sent out a silent plea. 'Save me…someone save me…' Little did he know at the time, but if his prayers were heard, they would go unanswered…

* * *

**A/N: **Ok, so I know it's a short chapter, but whadaya think so far?

P**lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed "Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

The links are now current so if you wish to see them, they are handily located on my **Profile**!

I can also get ahold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs*


	3. Can I Get A Witness?

Spn_Meme: Kink-Mpreg: Consort Of the Boy KIng 3/?

**Author's Notes: This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:**_**Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring.**_

As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock.

Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children.

**Warnings!**** This fic will contain:**

**kink: hurt!dean, kink:bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: biting, kink: knifeplay, kink: angst, kink: object pentration, kink: voyeurism, kink: mindfuck, kink: exhibition, kink: fingering, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

**There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!****  
**

**Author's Note:**** Ok, kids…it's gonna get dark from here…like, real f$king dark…just wanted to warn ya.**

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**Can I Get A Witness!**

**Dean drifted in and out, catching snippets of reality as he went. He saw a sea of black-robbed people flow in, he saw each of them file before the priest, letting him pierce their arms before they then held their bloody appendage over a silver chalice so that each one could add their life-blood to the growing pool inside. Once done, the priest worked through a long incantation, adding items to the chalice at key times throughout the ritual. Dean drifted again, alternately denying to himself that he was in the fucked up situation he was in and praying to Sammy, God, anyone for salvation. When Dean opened his eyes again, the priest was standing over him with the chalice along with two other men who forced his mouth open and held it open as the priest poured most of the mixture down his throat, pausing often to force him to swallow again and again. Tears leaked out of his fear-filled eyes and his stomach roiled and surged with the disgusting fluid flowing into it. He tried to thrash away, to fight it and keep it from going in his mouth but he was pinned down too well and he couldn't stop them in the end. Some spilled over his lips and down over his cheeks and throat, tickling at his over-wrought senses incessantly. The metallic scent filled the air around him, doing nothing for his already twisted stomach and all Dean could do was try to breathe through it after they let him go again. His cheeks and jaw ached from their steely grip and Dean tried to shift them slightly and often to find a position they weren't so painful in but he wasn't really all that successful. Before Dean knew it, the priest was hovering over him again, this time using the remaining mixture to paint symbols over his body. Once the older man was done, he wiped his hands and stepped back.**

**"It's time. Let us begin the next phase of the ritual."**

**A woman clothed in a ruby-colored robe stepped forward. **

**"Handmaiden, please commence your duties." the priest said.**

**"Yes, my lord." she murmured.**

**Turns out that at least part of the Handmaiden's apparent duties truly made her a "handmaiden", because she reached out with her hand without hesitation and grasped Dean's cock, stroking steadily and deftly over the soft, flacid flesh. The potion Dean had been forced to drink made each stroke feel like lightening was flashing through him from her touch and Dean couldn't help but moan at the amazing sensations she was giving him. When his shaft was fully hard and standing at attention, she made quick work of binding his aching cock and balls tightly, which made Dean squirm and whimper with the need for release.**

**That done, the maiden poured a sweet, herb-laced oil on her palm and began stroking his shaft with it until it was liberally coated. She moved on, moving lower, tracing her fingers gently over his entrance, circling the tender flesh with oil as well. Dean's eyes slid shut and he couldn't help but moan again, sparks burning over him at her teasing touch. She stopped for a moment to tip more oil over her fingers and Dean's eyes shot open as he suddenly felt pressure at his entrance as one of her fingers pressed incessantly at the tight orifice trying to gain entry. Dean fought to keep the invading appendage out but eventually, he felt the ring of muscle give under the onslaught and then a wave of stinging, burning pain washed over him as she pressed relentlessly inside. Dean hissed and tried to squirm away from the pain and discomfort she was causing him. After a minute or two, when she could thrust her finger in and out with less resistance, she pulled free and coated a second finger with the oil then pressed both back to his entrance until it gave way once again and she haltingly slipped inside. She began plunging in and out, opening the fingers inside him like scissors to force the clenching inner walls wider with her intruding digits. Dean bit down on his lip to stop the gasp he wanted to make from slipping out. Dean could take pain, lord knew he could, and had quite often throughout his life but this was different. It was so much more than just physical pain and it was the kind of pain Dean had never been very good at dealing with. In fact, he DIDN'T deal with it, instead he bottled it up, tramping it down inside himself until he could move on and leave it there. His shame and despair were already building to overload levels and once he broke, he wasn't so sure if he was strong enough to put himself back together again.**

**Finally, the woman pulled her fingers, though he was fuzzy on how many she'd managed to worm into his body in the end, and she stepped back and stood silently, waiting. Dean cracked his eyes open, unsure of when they had shut again, and saw the priest looming nearby. The priest nodded toward the line of men and women that were apparently waiting patiently for the next portion of the ritual to begin. The first man stepped forward, his hand reaching to unclasp the fabric of his robe, letting the dark material fall open to reveal his naked form. The man stepped forward further, holding out his hand to the Handmaiden, who poured the sweet oil onto his palm. The man used the oil to stroke his mostly erect cock to full hardness, coating it liberally then offered his palm to the woman again so that she could wipe the excess from him. Once that was done, she stepped back once again and the man moved the final few steps forward, climbing the steps to the small platform that allowed his hips to be level with Dean's body. Dean started trembling uncontrollably. This was it. This was really going to happen…No one was going to save him. At that moment, the hope that had been burning inside him guttered out and Dean couldn't help but suck in a choked sob. Once that first sob escaped, a wealth of them followed after, tears leaking heavily and his body shaking all the harder at what was to come.**

**"Please…please don't do this…" Dean begged softly, brokenly. God, he hated sounding so weak but he would do anything to try and stop this from happening. **

**This right here, or situations like it this that maybe were not this extreme, had been something he'd feared since before he'd hit puberty. He'd always feared what other men would do to him because of his looks and attitude. He knew he was a bit vain about them and that he pushed his attitude to the limit and beyond sometimes, but he didn't shy away from using them to his advantage. He knew also that his looks tended toward "pretty" rather than ruggedly handsome and that that made him look young and maybe a bit slutty. Dad had warned him long ago that his kind of looks, so fair and slightly feminine, drew people in, not just witness and women but men, too and that those men might expect things of him or want to do things to him whether he may want them done or not. He'd pushed Dean to work extra hard at training so that he would be able to protect himself as well as Sammy. Now, all that rigorous training he'd learned couldn't protect him and he was stuck in a nightmare reality he'd worked so hard to avoid his whole life.**

**"Please…no. Don't…please don't…" he begged again.**

**"Shhhh…all will be well, my son. Our Lord will provide you with the strength to endure…" the High Priest murmured as he stroked Dean's damp hair back, thumb stroking his forehead gently for a moment before he withdrew his touch. As he withdrew, he nodded to the first worshiper to begin.**

* * *

**A/N: ****As promised, an update! Hope you enjoyed it, my dears!**

**P****lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets on my account, just ask!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed "Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

The links are now current so if you wish to see them, they are handily located on my **Profile**!

I can also get a hold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs*


	4. Withering On the Vine

**Author's Notes: This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg. Also posted on LiveJournal.**

_**Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring.**_

**_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._**

**_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children._**

**Warnings!**** This fic will contain:**

**kink: hurt!dean, kink:bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: biting, kink: knifeplay, kink: angst, kink: object pentration, kink: voyeurism, kink: mindfuck, kink: exhibition, kink: fingering, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

**There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!****  
**

**Author's Note: Ok, kids…****darkness has began to descend at last…but we have so much farther to go… *wicked laugh***

* * *

**Chapter ****Four:**

**Withering on the Vine**

The man guided his stiff and leaking member to Dean's entrance, hesitating for only a moment before he began pressing inside forcefully. Dean's eyes snapped shut, clenching tight, and his body arched, rigid and locking tight as his muscles fought the unwanted penetration. The man pulled back then slammed back into again, pressing hard until he popped inside the tight ring of muscles then pulled back again and began slamming in even harder as he worked to fully seat himself inside Dean's body. Dean couldn't help but scream as he felt himself tear inside from the man's brutal assault. Thank god they had at least tried to prepare his body for this because he couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been without that little bit of kindness, if you could call it that… As it was, the potion was making him feel every single thing like it was amplified 10-fold and Dean could barely breathe as the pain stabbed through him over and over again. Logically, he knew that if he forced himself to relax his muscles, it wouldn't hurt nearly as bad but somehow, he just couldn't do it. Dean wished he could just pass out already and that he wouldn't have to feel the abuse his body was receiving but, apparently, something in one of the potions they'd made him drink was keeping him hyper-alert and present for the duration of the ritual.

Dean could feel blood and who knew what else trickling steadily out of his torn entrance and down his thighs to the altar below. Dean's screams and sobs reverberated around the room as the man kept pounding away until at last Dean felt him jerk and stiffen as he spilled his seed inside of him. The huffing, spent man pulled out steadily after his aftershocks had subsided and Dean couldn't help but wince and hiss as he did, though Dean refused to watch.

Just as Dean was letting himself rest for a moment from the onslaught to try and recover a little before whatever happened next, he felt something being shoved inside him. Dean's eyes snapped open of their own accord and he watched, momentarily stunned as the handmaiden roughly pressed a hard object into his torn entrance. Dean let out a deep gasp, panting raggedly as he felt it catch in place on the rim of the orifice. He turned frantic eyes to the high priest, once again begging for answers. The priest came to hover beside him once again as he explained.

"Virile though you no doubt are with women, my boy, we must make you fertile and ripe for our Prince, child of the Lord, whom shall claim you and give you that child to bear that will lead the world of the future. You shall be joined for all your days with the master of us all!" The priest uttered, voice taking on the fanatical reverence once again.

Dean goggled at him. Surely the priest didn't mean that they thought they were going to get him knocked up somehow…not only knocked up, but mated/wed/whatever to one of the bastards that was raping him? Dean felt like he was gonna be sick again. Men can't get pregnant…they can't! Could they? Fuck, he hoped not! No fucking way did he want to be the first knocked up dude on the planet! Even as he thought of it, he couldn't help the niggling thought from flitting through his totally fucked up subconscious. 'With Winchester luck being as fucked as it is, it probably _**would**_ be possible…Fuck!' he thought, mind spinning off on that tangent before he felt another presence loom over him. Dean's attention snapped to the present, his heart sinking as he realized it was another man ready to take his turn at his already battered body. The high priest withdrew his presence and the handmaiden tugged the plug out just before the man slipped inside, pushing all the fluids back inside Dean's body before it could seep out.

Dean let out a wail as the man began slamming into him. The man was definitely slightly bigger then the last man had been and Dean's already torn flesh tore even further to allow the new man entrance. Dean was already raw and throbbing and this was only the beginning. Dean's hands clenched closed over and over again as the man drove himself inside him brutally hard. The feeling of the horns of the amulet stabbing into his palm gave him something to focus on besides the pain ripping through him below.

Several more men took their turns at his body before the first woman took her turn to climb up, straddle him and use his body like her own personal fuck toy. Dean didn't watch, he tried not to listen to the huffs and pants and moans spilling from each man and woman as they used his body. At a certain point, his pain threshold must have been triggered because he started to pull back from himself, only distantly feeling the stabbing organs and clenching muscles scrapping over his raw, abused flesh. He blocked out the slapping noises made by flesh on flesh and the sickening squelches of the vile fluids being fucked back into his body. He made himself ignore the fluids and blood that oozed and splattered out of his body with each thrust and the feeling of those fluids trickling down over his balls and splattering over his thighs and the altar below.

Dean stopped counting how many people were raping him at 13, couldn't take the knowledge that more were waiting at the ready to take the place of the one hurting him right then. Dean let himself drift, his memories of happy times with his baby brother and father and even his mother kept him in a place where the people abusing him couldn't touch him. He knew now that in between each abuser, they were plugging him to trap the disgusting fluids inside, the plug growing larger and larger the wider he was torn open. In his detached state, Dean couldn't even fathom the sheer volume of fluids forcibly trapped inside his body at this point. He didn't register how abused and raw and angry his cock looked from repeated abuse and, god help him, repeated orgasm denial because, yeah, apparently his dick didn't get the fucking memo that he was being forced to do this and that it wasn't supposed to be enjoying this, but somehow it still was deriving pleasure from being used and touched. _**Stupid fucking body…**_

Dean finally came back to his body because his body had registered that something had changed in the environment around him. It took him forever to open his tight, puffy, dried out eyes to see what was different. It seemed like they might be done with his body for now because the fanatical bastards were focusing on the priest and whatever incantations or mockery of prayers he was doing right then. Though his focus was hazy still, he kept coming back to focus briefly often enough to register the people bowing now as the high priest and the handmaiden lead them in a procession out of the hall, closing the door behind them.

Dean let himself rest a little, the pain levels still so high that his body still felt slightly detached from it. He knew that once the chemicals wore off, he'd most likely be in excruciating pain and who knew if or when he would have a chance to rest again or for how long. As he drifted in his semi-conscious state, Dean felt a presence approach him. They were stealthy about it, but Dean knew the moves and he could recognize the figure approaching anywhere.

"Sammy…" he breathed out, his damaged, parched throat no longer even capable of more than a whisper at the moment. Relief flooded his heart as Sam finally made it to his side.

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**A/N:** So…I has updated! *high fives* (P.S. I'm at work again, got paid to type this up…) *snickers* I know it's short but it felt like the right place to stop for the chapter. And yes, I know I'm evil for leaving another cliffie…but…you know you love me for it. ;)

If all goes well, I'll type up another chapter tomorrow night to post. I love getting paid for writing…even if it's a bit of a "by proxy" sort of situation…

P**lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed "Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

The links are now current so if you wish to see them, just let me know and I will provide you with them!

I can also get a hold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs*


	5. Little Bitter Piece of Hell

**Author's Note 1: This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:**

_**Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring.**_

**_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._**

**_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children._**

**Warnings!**** This fic will contain:**

**kink: hurt!dean, kink:bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: biting, kink: knifeplay, kink: angst, kink: object pentration, kink: voyeurism, kink: mindfuck, kink: exhibition, kink: fingering, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

**There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!****  
**

**Author's Note 2: Ok, kids…****darkness has descended at last…Oh, but we have so much farther to go… *wicked laugh***

**Chapter ****Five:**

**Little Bitter Piece of Hell…**

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Sam was wearing the black robe of the cult members and Dean thought at once 'Good idea…blend in…hope he has one of those for me, wouldn't do to escape looking like I do, might scare people…' Dean finished the thought with a rueful snort because HELLO! He had just been raped by god knew how many people and here he was worrying about scaring other people…man, he was seriously fucked up… Once Sam was at his side, he pulled back the hood and locked eyes with Dean. Something about the way Sam's eyes shifted over his body before they returned to Dean's own and the raw hunger he saw in Sam's eyes made Dean distinctly uneasy.

"Uhh…Sam, little help here?" Dean said in a whispered croak, tugging at his bound, bleeding and torn wrists to give a hint. It was right after that that Dean had the sinking feeling that his life would never be the same because Sam smiled down at him. It was a smile Dean had never seen on his little brother's face before. **_'No…no no no…it can't be…_**' Dean thought, his heart starting to slam against his ribcage violently.

"Christo…" Dean whispered, praying he didn't see a demon was riding around inside of his little brother's body. _**'If only I could get a hold of something silver and check to see if he's a 'shifter…**_' Dean thought. But he couldn't get free and it wasn't like anything silver would just be lying around… Sam didn't flinch at the name of God in latin, so, not possessed then, but still, something had it's claws , metaphorically or literally, in Sam. Something was either controlling him somehow or it was pretending to be his baby brother because this was NOT his Sam, his Sammy…it couldn't be… Sam just smiled that ugly smile even bigger at him.

"I'm not possessed, Dean. Not a shapeshifter or a revenant or anything like that either. I'll even prove it to you." Sam said confidently, still smiling. A moment later, the doors opened and the black-robed figures flowed back in, surrounding the altar at a distance. The high priest and the handmaiden stepped forward again, eyes glowing and faces open and smiling softly as if they were in the presence of a god.

"Welcome, my lord…" the high priest murmured, bowing deeply. All the others bowed as well. When they all stood again, the priest swept them with a look and gestured to them with a wave of his upturned, open palm.

"All hail the Boy King, our Master's son has come home to us at last!" the priest said, causing the others to break out into enthusiastic noise, voices and clapping. The high priest gave them time to express their exuberance then turned his palm out, silencing them before turning back to Sam. He gestured for the handmaiden to step forward and she did so with a tray that bore a silver dagger and a silver chalice.

"He has been prepared to receive you, my lord. We are ready to begin with the next part of the ritual." The high priest said.

"Very good, Veran." Sam said as he took the dagger and the chalice offered to him. The priest and handmaiden stepped back as Sam stepped back closer to Dean.

"See Dean…this is silver. No effect of me. So you see, big brother, it really is just me…and I really do want to do this." Sam said, his voice bearing a slight hint of dark humor even as he cut his arm to show Dean he wasn't a monster.

Dean's panted breaths became even more rapid and shallow, making him light-headed and weaker. **_'It's Sam…it's him, but so much worse…This is what dad was trying to warn me about…_**' Dean thought as he was hit with the sudden realization. **_'I failed…Sammy turned and I failed…God, I'm so sorry dad…I failed you and I failed Sammy and I even failed myself…Sam turned evil and I fucked up and didn't stop it…_**' Dean thought, his eyes beginning to leak again, surprising him distantly because he had thought his tears had dried out. The fat, hot stung his already red, puffy and irritated eyes as they tumbled out and slid down his already heavily tear-tracked cheeks. Near silent but bone-deep sobs began to shake his already trembling body as Dean lay back limply, his eyes slipping closed and his head lolling to the side to face away from what had once been his baby brother.

Sam watched his brother's tormented figure as Dean realized now just what had happened. Sam studied him even as he let his blood be collected in the chalice. Dean looked defeated, full of despair…Dean looked broken. Part of Sam was devastated to see his brother like that, was ashamed and disgusted with himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Another part of him the part that had always been there but that he had always tried to keep locked down and hidden inside himself, until recently at least, that part of him was roiling with raw lust, loving how debauched and used his brother looked. It was the part of him that loved his big brother desperately in a decidedly unbrotherly way. That part of himself was one of the reasons Sam had ran so far and so fast for college; he was trying to run away from that part of himself. That part of him was volatile, power-hungry, lustful, prideful and full of darker emotions like anger and hate. Sam felt like he was pretty much a living, breathing example of a good portion of the 7 Deadly Sins and so Sam had tried to keep that part of himself in check. Now, Sam had stopped fighting it, he'd let himself be taken over by the love and lust he felt for his brother and soon, all the jagged pieces of that part of himself had surged to the surface as well. When the priest had found him and explained what he was, **_who_** he was, Sam had fully intended to try to fight it forever, but then the priest had done an incantation and it had brought out his true nature finally and he'd felt all those suppressed needs and emotions take him over once and for all. He let them take him over, wanted them to because he was so damn tired of constantly fighting himself any more. They were _**hungry**…_and Sam was finally going to feed them and let them take their fill.

Sam raised the dagger, trailing it over Dean's cheek, down his throat and chest, dragging the tip around the sensitive flesh of each nipple one by one until finally he drug it down over Dean's bicep to his forearm. One quick slash later and Dean's blood was welling up from the split flesh and trickling down his inner forearm. Sam placed the chalice beneath the wound, catching the drips of the crimson liquid and allowing it to blend with his own lifeblood inside it. Once the flow had slowed significantly , Sam handed the chalice and dagger off to the high priest, who went off to do the rest of the spell work for the ritual. Sam began circling the altar, taking in his big brother's broken and bruised bound form. The terrible lust gnawing away inside him spiked and he couldn't help but touch the beautiful man, trailing his fingers over Dean's body as he slowly finished making the circle, stopping at the steps to the altar platform.

"God…Dean…look at you…so fucking beautiful like this, big brother. I've wanted you for so long, you just don't even know, man, and now I get to have you…forever…" Sam said as he stepped up on the steps and began unlatching the robe. As the last clasp came undone, he let it slip down and fall away, revealing his nakedness beneath. Sam's hand automatically moved to grip his massive cock and he began stroking the turgid flesh, the dribbling pre-come making his hand slip-slide easily over the rock-hard shaft and the feel of it pulled a deep moan out of him. As soon as he was as hard as he could be and he was able to focus again, Sam stepped up the final step to bring himself level with Dean's well-used hole. Seeing the inflamed, engorged entrance before him made Sam start slowly stroking himself again. He reached out with his free hand, letting the rough pad of his fingertip stroke over and circle slowly around the glistening rim of the torn and puffy flesh of Dean's entrance.

"So fucking hot, big brother, all stretched and torn wide like this for me…gonna have to get you stretched wide open like this for me again, baby. Not gonna share you again, though, 'cause you're all mine, but maybe I'll just have to fuck you open with my fist…just work you open until I can shove my arm up inside you and fuck you hard until you scream and beg me to let you come…" Sam murmured dirtily. Sam watched as Dean swallowed hard, at his filthy words, a tiny whimper slipping out despite Dean's best efforts to stop it. Sam's cock gave a throb at the sounds his brother made and he had to clamp down on the base of his shaft to stave off a surge of pleasure that wanted to send him over the edge prematurely.

"Sound so fucking hot when you make those sounds, big brother…" Sam purred. Sam made himself ready to enter Dean's body, waiting impatiently for the handmaiden to remove the hard, impossibly thick plug from Dean's entrance. As soon as the implement was pulled free, the thick, viscous fluids already spilled inside Dean's body began to ooze out, dripping and dribbling down to the altar's surface below him.

"Fuck, Dean! So fucking full and wet for me, baby! Might have to keep you like this from now on; stretched and wet and always ready to take my cock whenever and wherever I wanna have at you..." Sam murmured in awe, transfixed by the sight of Dean's leaking hole. He reached out to touch the flesh again, painting the spend over the area until it was gleaming wet. The sight of the tantalizing ring of flesh and muscle so wet and gaping sent a massive surge of lust through his system and Sam had no choice but to follow its command and take the offering set before him.

Sam pressed his cock to the tender, gaping entrance and, with a sharp, brutally hard thrust, he slammed himself inside, pressing relentlessly until he was balls-deep inside his brother's body. Dean gave a choked inhale, his body arching and locking hard in a rigid arch, straining against his restraints, head thrown back and mouth locked open in a silent scream as his eyes flew open, once again leaking tears heavily. Sam moaned, long and deep, at the feel of Dean's wet, hot tunnel wrapped around his cock. Sam grabbed Dean's head roughly, dragging him up until Sam could capture his brother's mouth with his own, fucking his tongue inside rough and hard. It was a brutal kiss, full of biting teeth and plundering tongue that made Dean choke and whimper and unable to draw sufficient air. Finally, Sam broke the kiss, allowing both of them to suck in much needed oxygen. Sam stared down at his brother for a long moment, reveling in the sight before he pulled his body back until only the tip of his cock was inside Dean before slamming back inside brutally hard, making Dean gasp and jerk beneath him. Sam watched Dean hungrily as he pulled out and thrust back in with rapid, vicious snaps of his pelvis, grinding himself into the abused, tender flesh with abandon.

The sounds of Sam's moans and Dean's whimpers and gasps filled the air along with the wet slip-slap of flesh on flesh and the splatter of the seeping bodily fluids forced out with each thrust. Sam was in heaven with all the pleasure he was taking from his big brother's body. He knew he had to control himself, though, because he needed to make Dean to come as well in order to fulfill the ritual. Dean's seed and blood, mixed with Sam's own, both of which he'd already provided for the high priest, would be the main component of the potion that would allow the magic needed to make Dean fertile and able to bear his children, in defiance of natural law, and of the ritual that bound them together as the Boy King and his Consort.

Sam shifted the angle he was thrusting into Dean's body with, the new angle allowing Sam to tap Dean's prostate with every thrust. The startled gasp and subsequent reluctant moan that slipped out of Dean's mouth made Sam hungry and savage with lust and he bent down low over Dean's body again to capture Dean's shocked-wide open mouth in another brutal kiss. He ravaged Dean's mouth, biting his lips, sucking on his tongue, fucking his own tongue into the bruised and swollen orifice to drink down the moans, gasps, and whimpers that slipped out of Dean. Sam slowly slid his hand down from his vicious grip in Dean's short, sweaty mop of hair to Dean's jaw and throat, angling Dean's mouth to a position more to his liking. After letting it linger there, fingers pressed firmly into Dean's flesh to feel the near frantic thumping of his big brother's pulse, Sam began to slide it down further, gliding it over the sweat-slick planes of Dean's chest and even lower to his incredible, well-defined abs. Dean's body, his abs in particular, were stunning and Sam loved how the skin stretched taut over the muscles beneath, but he knew that that would all change very soon. Soon, Dean's stomach would swell and stretch to accommodate their unborn child and that though and those pictures that swelled up in his mind thrilled him and turned him on just that much more. Deliciously dirty thoughts of licking and nipping and sucking marks onto that stretch of skin and thoughts of fucking into Dean from behind so he could wrap one arm around his brother's chest and the other around his belly to reach the cock jutting out proudly from below that swell of flesh nearly made Sam come prematurely. The single-most thrilling thought, though, was of fucking Dean face to face, making him come hard, the spend splattering up and over the stretched, swollen mound of flesh in pearly ropes, just glistening there and waiting for Sam to lap them up saver them like the most delicious Ambrosia. With thoughts like these and many more burning through his mind, Sam knew he wasn't going to be able to last much longer.

The hand that Sam had left below for balance was still maintaining a death grip on Dean's naked hip, while the other he finally moved down away from where it had been stroking and massaging Dean's stomach to Dean's rigid, angry cock. Sam gripped the hot, silky-fleshed shaft tightly and began stroking it counter to his thrusts. He tore his mouth away from Dean's finally, moving his face back to better view his brother's face beneath him. Dean's face was pale but intermittently splotched deep red, flushed from the physicality of the sexual activities he was participating in. The underlying pallor caused the smattering of freckles that Dean had always loathed and denied having, to stand out starkly. His cheeks and throat were damp from a mixture of sweat and tears and his lips were cherry red and swollen from the biting and the kisses Sam had bestowed upon them. Dean's eyes were clenched tightly shut now even as tears continued to trickle slowly down from beneath the shackling cages of his absurdly long lashes.

"So fucking beautiful, big brother…" Sam murmured, completely in awe of Dean's beauty. Sam bent low once again, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips along Dean's jaw, working down his throat until he reached the juncture of muscle and skin between Dean's neck and shoulder. Sam laved over the area with his tongue for a long moment before he couldn't help himself and he just had to bite down. He bit hard, hard enough to draw blood and to make Dean give a strangled yelp and for his body to jerk hard against his bounds yet again.

As Sam lapped at the blood trickling from the wound, he felt Dean trembling and Sam knew he must be getting him close to orgasm. Dean gave a whimpered, mewling sob, his body hitching in an arch against the bounds as the extreme sensations made his orgasm build so high that was pressing incessantly and painfully through his body, hindered and thwarted by the tight binding on his cock and balls. Dean's cock was throbbing and colored a angry, deep purple/red. Sam's mouth watered and it gave him a wicked thrill when he gave the over-stimulated flesh a vicious squeeze, making Dean cry out and shudder even harder. Sam smirked slightly and he tortured Dean for a bit by alternating between stroking his rock hard shaft and gripping down on it viciously hard, never stopping the pounding of Dean's prostate with the brutal rhythm of his thrusts. Dean thrashed against his bindings, low screams and choked sobs bubbling out from his throat, unable to be stopped.

Finally, Sam decided to stop torturing his brother and end the ritual, so he carefully undid the bindings around Dean's cock and balls. The moment they fell free, Dean let out a deep scream as blood flooded the tissue and the nerve endings that had been choked off and numbed by the tight binding started firing back to life. Dean sobbed even harder when Sam took hold of his shaft again. Two strokes of the hot, pulsing flesh and Dean was done. His face twisted into a grimace of agony and ecstasy and he threw his head back in a silent scream as he came violently, his spend pumping out over is chest and stomach, as well as Sam's hand. Dean remained in that rigid, impossible position for seemingly an eternity as his body jerked and spasmed wildly, muscles clenching vice-tight around Sam's cock.

"Fuck! Oh Fuck…Dean…oh god, so good…yes, big brother, yes…" Sam babbled, barely coherent as he forced his cock deep into the spasming tunnel one last time and once buried balls deep, he came harder then he ever had before. He let Dean's still spasming and clenching body pull him through his orgasm and the aftershocks as it milked his seed from him until he felt his cock give one last feeble spurt and he was done, his cock slowly beginning to soften inside his big brother's body. Sam was exhausted and he wanted nothing more then to collapse over Dean's body and rest for about a millennium, but the priest stopped him before he could do so.

"Wait a moment, my Lord." he said, reaching in between Sam and Dean's bodies to gather Dean's spend from his body. Once done, he said "There my Lord, you may rest for the time being while we complete the next part of the ritual."

Sam nodded his acknowledgement before collapsing down over his brother's body. Sam stroked over Dean's heated skin, attempting to soothe and calm the muscle spasms chasing themselves over Dean's body. Dean's breath was still ragged, his eyes closed and Sam was pretty sure that potion or no potion, Dean had passed out beneath him. Sam sighed deeply as he felt the terrible hunger inside himself settle finally now that it had been allowed to partake of what it had craved for so long. Sated and deeply happy for the moment, Sam stayed still until he finally felt Dean's frantic heartbeat and ragged breathing calm down significantly before he stood slowly and gently pulled himself out of his brother's body. Dean's brow furled in pain but Dean stayed unconscious. The Handmaiden stepped forward as he stepped away and immediately pressed the massive plug back inside Dean's entrance. Once done, she stepped back and allowed Sam a private moment with his brother. Distantly, Sam heard the priest and his followers working to finish the rituals incantation as he stood next to his brother, stroking his fevered skin and whispering soothing noises and words of comfort to him. Finally, the High Priest returned to him baring the chalice.

"My Lord, you and he must drink from this to complete the binding of your bodies and souls and to complete your Ascension." The High Priest said quietly. Sam gave a nod of understanding and took the chalice from him, drinking deeply then moving up Dean's body slightly, tapping his cheek to get him to stir and then lifting his head gently once his eyes opened, bleary, bloodshot and out of focus. Dean wasn't truly conscious, Sam knew from experience, but instead he was in highly suggestible in between state making him pliable and trusting and easily manipulated into doing just what Sam needed and wanted him to do.

"It's ok Dean, Your sick and I'm taking care of you, ok? So I need you to drink this for me, it will make you feel better." Sam murmured soothingly.

Confused and out of it from the pain, Dean just accepted what his baby brother said as truth. "'kay, Sammy…" he mumbled, accepting the liquid "medicine" Sam offered. It tasted bad and Dean tried to turn away, but Sam kept pressing him to finish it and he'd never denied his baby brother anything so he finished it as best he could. When it was done, Dean turned his head away, his eyes slipping closed and a grimace marring his beautiful face as he did so.

"I know it doesn't taste very good, but it was necessary to make everything better for you, big brother." Sam said quietly as he let his brother pass back out.

"Rest Dean, I've got you." Sam whispered, palm moving to cup Dean's cheek and thumb stroking over his brother's cheek bone as he bent low and placed gentle kisses first on his forehead then on his lips. When Sam finally pulled away and opened his eyes, the High Priest and the Handmaiden were waiting and watching him patiently. Sam moved over toward them, the Handmaiden lifting his robe and holding it open for him as he slipped into it. He turned, ready to close it, but she stopped him and sunk to her knees before him, with a cloth and a bowl of warm, sweetly herbal smelling water. She worked diligently, cleaning his body as thoroughly as she could before standing and fastening the closures of the robe for him, before bowing low to him and the High Priest, then gathered her items and slipped out of the Hall, leaving Sam and the High Priest alone.

"You have done well, my Lord. He is yours, as he was always meant to be, bound now to you forever. Your Ascension is complete, as is the Consecration of the Vessel. All is as it should be. Your demonic father, your true father, Azazel, would be pleased. This has been foretold for so long, my Lord, and it has all finally come to fruition through his hard work. I only wish he was here to see it." The High Priest said sadly, allowing a moment of silence to pass in remembrance before moving on.

"To assure conception, the Consort must remain on the altar, the life-baring fluids kept inside his body to trigger his the beginning of his fertility. He will be very fertile, my Lord, and only ever for you, for he is bound solely to you and no other will be able to make life grow within him. His is yours, and only yours, body and soul. We will make him as comfortable as possible and then when the correct amount of time has passed, he will brought to your chambers to rest and heal."

"Excellent, thank you Veran. I'll leave him in your capable hands, though if anything happens, I want to know immediately. I'm going to return to my chambers and get properly cleaned up and then I will be back. I don't want him to be alone if he wakes up." Sam said.

"Yes, of course, my Lord. I shall have food and drink waiting for you in your quarters." Veran, the High Priest said. Sam gave a deferential nod and set off for his quarter, for _**their**_ quarters…

Sam thought about his brother as he showered then changed into more comfortable and warmer clothing. Dean's clothes had been brought in as well and Sam reached out to pull Dean's leather coat to himself, inhaling deeply. It was one of their dad's old coats, he knew that, but Dean had long ago made it his own and it smelled like him now, all leather and musk and spice and gun oil. Overriding all of that, though, was the slight, almost honeyed sweetness that was the very essence of Dean. It was addictive, that smell and Sam had no idea how long he had stood there with his brother's coat pressed to him when he came back to himself. Finally, he let the supple, faded leather slip out of his grasp with a contented, deep sigh and turned to examine the food that had been brought for him. He nibbled away as he let his mind wander, dreaming of the life his brother and he would have now.

They could finally settle down now; have a real life together. He could finally be with Dean , finally have the life and love he had always longed for. Although he deeply regretted what dean had had to endure for the ritual, with the kidnapping and the seemingly endless, unrelenting sex he'd had to have to bring on his fertility, Sam knew that it had been necessary to bring them together and for them to be a family. He didn't like the thought that other's had touched his brother where only he should be allowed to touch, but the ritual was very specific and he had endured it, considering it a means to an end where he would be the only one from now one. Truth be told, as much as he hated the others taking his brother, it had also turned him on as well. He didn't think he could ever let his brother be fucked by anyone else but him, because Dean was his and he didn't want to share.

Dean would give him children, and they would have a family, a real family and they would love them and give themselves whole-heartedly to their sons and daughters in a way that they themselves had never had. With both his human father and his demon father dead and gone, it was just the two of them now. Sam wasn't sure if Dean had felt for him what he'd felt for his big brother, but he knew that his big brother loved him above all others and so he was absolutely sure Dean and he would be content and in love and live happily ever after, as clichéd as that was, because they were soul-mates and they were meant to be together always. Sam was just so in love with Dean and of course he loved him as the big brother and father and teacher Dean had always been to him as well and he just knew that given a little time, Dean would realize he felt the same way about him and then everything would be perfect.

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**A/N:** So…I has updated again! *high fives for me* (P.S. I'm at work again, so I got paid to type this up…) *snickers* I love getting paid for writing…even if it's a bit of a "by proxy" sort of situation… And, it's a nice LONG update even! *more high fives*

Now we're really getting into the meat and potatoes of the story. I have a lot of separate parts written and I know where I want the story to go, I just need to connect the dots and type it up. I'm really looking forward to making this my first long, chaptered story I finish. I am going to finish this then go back and start working on others to get them finished before I start anything new. At least that's the plan, anyways…And you know what they say "Life is what happens while you're busy making plans…" so who knows. Thank you everybody for sticking with me! I know I've been taking my sweet-ass time on writing this, and I hope, in the end, that you feel it was worth the wait!

P**lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed "Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

The links are now current so if you wish to see them, just let me know and I will provide you with them!

I can also get a hold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs*


	6. Screaming In Silence In A Crowded Room

**Spn_Meme: Kink-Mpreg: Consort Of the Boy King 6/?**

**Author's Note 1:****This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:**

_**Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring.**_

**_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._**

**_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children._**

**Warnings!**** This fic will contain:**

**kink: hurt!dean, kink:bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: biting, kink: knifeplay, kink: angst, kink: object pentration, kink: voyeurism, kink: mindfuck, kink: exhibition, kink: fingering, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

**There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!****  
**

**Author's Note 2:**** Ok, kids…darkness has began to descend at last…but we have so much farther to go… *wicked laugh***

* * *

**Chapter ****Six:**

**Screaming In Silence In A Crowded Room…**

* * *

Everything was murky and shifting and Dean felt himself shifting in and out of consciousness. For some reason, he was utterly sure he didn't want to wake up completely, that there was something horrible waiting for him if he did. He trusted his instincts, after all, they had saved him time and time again so he just let himself drift. Whenever the darkness appeared, he let himself be swallowed down by it and when he wasn't in the black nothingness, he drifted in the hazy place between sleep and awake. The other constant, he knew in that state was the pain. It was a deep, low ache, like a pain that was somewhat held at bay by at least some sort of medicine but it wasn't enough to mask the pain completely. Dean had all sorts of experience with pain, though, so he pushed it into a compartment in his mind and locked it down to a manageable level, just like his father had taught him to do, just like he'd been doing since he was just a boy.

At some point, despite his intentions, something triggered him awake. It took a few moments to come to his senses, but once he did, he really wished he hadn't, just like his sub-conscious had tried to warn him. The trigger turned out to be a touch. Nothing sexual, just a touch to his stomach and bam! Dean was all at once terribly awake. There were two women touching him, all over, rubbing and kneading his tender flesh, massaging in sweet, spice-laden oils into his skin. Another, a man, was examining various parts of his body, checking wounds and bandages and what not. They were all touching him, examining him, without his consent and he couldn't handle it. He couldn't stand anyone touching him, probably never could again. He felt filthy, not in the hygienic sense, not really, but in his soul. He felt filthy and used up and he wanted nothing more then to scream and cry and scrub himself down until he bled so that maybe he could scrub out some of the taint he felt writhing all over him and inside him.

He tried to scream at them to stop, but he could do little more then croak out his pleas. He tried to pull away, run and hide away from them, but he couldn't move, he was still strapped to the altar and he couldn't get away no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't stop the tears that poured out of his burning eyes as he begged and pleaded with them to stop touching him but they wouldn't. They wouldn't stop. They wouldn't listen. Dean was shaking and tensing up hard at their touch and still they wouldn't listen, they just tried to hush him and kept massaging at the tensing muscles. Dean was hyper-aware now and out of control. Every touch, every murmur brought the memories of the ritual back and as they continued, Dean was having trouble distinguishing between the here and now and the past until he finally tipped over into the horror of the memories of that night. He was gone, lost in the pain and humiliation and fear and then he was overwhelmed and consumed in the ultimate act of betrayal. That was all his damaged psyche could take and he tumbled into the darkness once again.

When his mind finally climbed out of the darkness again, he was alone for the moment. It was dim around him but he could tell he was in the same space as before. His body swung widely between worrying numbness and deep aching pain that he could feel all the way down to his bones. Dean could see he was draped with a blanket for warmth, but he could tell that he was still naked beneath it. He shifted, trying to ease ache but as he did he felt distinct, uncomfortable tugs in several places. He turned his head carefully, noting that he felt rather dizzy for such a small move and it took longer then he would have liked to quell the sickness that was trying to creep up his throat and out of his mouth. From the new position, Dean could see the IV lines snaking their way from beneath the cloth covering him. He could also see what he knew to be a catheter hanging from a makeshift hook on the side of the altar. He could most definitely feel that damnable thing tugging at deeply tender and sore flesh of his cock.

Dean's eyes fluttered closed as he realized that they had touched him again, intimately so even, as he lay unconscious. He shuddered again, quivering with the ghostly feel of their hands all over him while he was at his most vulnerable. He was almost choking on the bile that rose up inside him at the thought. Then, as he shifted again, he became aware of another, more terrible ache. Every movement shifted the hard, unforgiving object forced into his entrance, scraping at the torn, raw flesh and stroking the overwrought nerves inside him. He felt like he was touching a live wire, sending shockwaves of agony and unwanted pleasure every time he moved even fractionally. He could feel the feeling of liquid shifting around inside himself as well and realized they had trapped all the vile fluids spilled inside him during the ritual within his body.

Dean couldn't stop the overwhelming surge of disgust as it triggered the bile to flood up and out of his body. He barely had time to turn his head before it was pouring out of his body. He shook and seized as his body violently revolted. Every whiff of the putrid scent of vomit sent him right back into another round of vomiting and then painful dry-heaves. He vomited until he was choking and seizing and unable to breath, his body tensed so tight that he felt like he was on fire. He throbbed and shook and vertigo ran amuck inside his head. Just when his panic had reached its peak, he distantly felt others enter the room, his hunter instincts still tingling in warning of other's presence near him. He could tell they were speaking but it was far away and muddled sounding, like he was hearing them from under water and Dean felt the darkness rising up fast to claim him and he didn't fight it, letting it drag him under, hoping it would be the last time.

It wasn't. Sometime later, he couldn't tell how long, Dean drifted back to the surface. He felt a presence nearby and slowly shifted to find it. His eyes finally landed upon the familiar shaggy mop of chocolate brown hair, and slumping posture that was the hallmark of his brother. Just as soon as he registered who it was beside him, the memory of Sam's betrayal flooded over him. Dean couldn't stop the choked sob that slipped out, drawing the dozing figure's attention. The thing that used to be Sam was on him in moments, a concerned smile tipping his lips crookedly. That look, so familiar and yet so wrong on the evil being wearing his baby brother's face made him feel the horror and betrayal and utter sense of failure all over again. Dean turned away, sobbing quietly in his misery, distantly hearing the familiar sound of Sam's voice speaking quietly to him as well, which just tipped him even further into despair. He felt the huge paws of hands that had once held so much comfort for him, though he rarely allowed them to give it to him, settle over him again. He could feel the strokes and touches and soft presses of lips on him and it made him sob and cry even harder because it was just too much to handle. He felt the thing's hands rub over his shaking belly and he unwittingly heard what it was murmuring as it did so. It purred about how much it loved him and how beautiful he would be with child and how it couldn't wait to raise their children together…Dean shook all the harder in utter revulsion. The words and touches blurred again with the night of the ritual and the juxtaposition of the once comforting touch and voice with the monster that was using them as well as the flashes of memories of the night of the ritual were making Dean shudder violently and feel like he was coming apart at the seams. Every second he endured of it make him react even harder until he was practically convulsing. The flashbacks got worse and worse until Dean could no longer tell reality from memory and he tipped over once again into the horror that never seemed to end, unable to fight it as it dragged him under again.

Every time Dean went under, he prayed that it was the last, that this nightmare would finally end and he could die and maybe find peace or even just oblivion. Every time that failed to happen, he lost a little bit more of the tattered remains of himself. When Dean woke again, he was in a different room. It was dark but Dean could feel it was a different place. Whatever he was laying on was softer, the smell was different, even the air felt different. It didn't really matter, though, because he still couldn't move. He didn't feel the weight of restraints any longer at his wrists and chest and ankles but he was so weak and sick that even moving a few inches made everything shift and tumble like he was in a funhouse. Wherever he was, Dean was staying there for the foreseeable future.

Dean could feel the IV and catheter still in place, unfortunately, but noticed as well that he couldn't feel the agony of the thing that had been forced inside his body to hold the fluids that had been spilt inside him in. He felt something soft, giving as he shifted his body cautiously. Bandages of some kind, he guessed. He had to have been damaged by what had happened to him and it would have needed repair/healing, just like any other wound. But it wasn't like any other wound. It was so, so much worse. Shame and despair wracked him, causing tears to leak once again from his swollen, burning eyes. The things that had happened to him just wouldn't leave him alone. He shuddered again as he realized that not only had he been bandaged, thus touched again without his consent, but he'd also been cleaned up and clothed, too, because Dean could feel the cloth wrapped around his body, as well as covers or blankets. He had been touched and prodded and scrubbed while he was unable to stop it yet again. He felt the disgusting, ghostly feel of their unwanted touches all over again and he felt sick again. He curled in on himself, shuddering and sobbing quietly, sick in body and soul, until he eventually slipped unconscious again.

After the night of ritualized rape, Dean had remained in the altar/fertility contraption, built specifically for him, of course, for about 3 days he'd later found out. How his body ached…Everything was still so mind-boggling and stomach twisting…Whenever he was awake, he longed for the numbness of the darkness, but that in and of it itself was problematic because when he was exhausted enough to fall into the darkness, he was either woken by a nightmarish memory or he was being touched against his will and it was triggering another nightmarish memory and a panic attack…There was no damn escape...

Dean's mind drifted back to the night over and over again. He drifted to the day before and the hunt and all the other events surrounding it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the sequence of events out of his head, especially from after he had been grabbed.

He remembered the feeling of eyes on him. He remembered the hands grabbing him, the bindings, the motions of the van or truck. He remembers his struggle to get free and the sudden retaliation and resulting concussion. It had been relatively mild but it had been enough, in combination with the beating he taken as he'd fought to get free, had left him muddled and his head had ached something fierce. The motion of the vehicle had made the pain and nausea all the worse and he had panicked as he had started becoming ill even though his mouth was still taped shut. He had fought to live, struggling in the men's grasps as he was choking to death on his own vomit. He wishes now that he had just been able to let it happen, that he hadn't fought so hard to live…

He remembered the 1st potion the priest had given him, it had helped, he had to admit, even if he hadn't been given a choice to take it. He had to admit that it had settled his stomach and taken the edge off his pain and the symptoms of the concussion. He remembers the potion the priest had shoved down his throat a short time later to "prepare" him…it had all but set his body on fire! His blood had boiled and his nerves had spiked into hypersensitivity and awareness and every touch and breath had become almost an agony. Then he remembered as his bruised body was strapped into the incredibly uncomfortable contraption to hold his body in the position that best suited their purposes: hips at the edge and canted up to allow for easy access. Dean had figured that at the time, he was lucky that the position and bindings had screwed with the blood flow enough to cause some areas to be slightly numbed down. He remembered struggling against the bindings, leaving bone-deep bruising up his arms, on his legs and on his chest. Not only had they bruised, they had also been so tight that any shift cause their edges to grind and slice into the tender, vulnerable flesh, leaving gashes as well. Some were practically cut down to the bone. His continued thrashing throughout the night had reopened the wounds over and over again, causing him to bleed heavily, his life-blood pooling on the altar and the floor below. He'd thrashed so hard at one point that he'd dislocated his shoulder. If he could have screamed at that point, he would have, but his abused throat could only croak out a long, low, shuddering groan and the agony he'd already been in amplified at least 10-fold. The chest strap made breathing harder and harder as the night wore on, grinding into the flesh, bruising and cutting him, squeezing his ribs mercilessly. He knew he had bruised and probably cracked a few ribs as well.

The worst though, was his cock and balls and his hole. For his cock, innumerable hours of being restrained in it's engorged and erect state, along with the potion roaming his blood stream and raking over his nerves, it had made the chaffing of skin over skin that much worse, feeling like it was burning and tearing into the super-sensitive and delicate skin. His poor cock was raw and torn and so goddamn hard he wanted to sob and the need for release was an overwhelming and excruciating torture.

His entrance was beyond torn, the skin so used and ripped apart that he had no doubt he'd have scar tissue for the rest of his life, a constant reminder of what he'd endured. Inside, he was bloodied and torn and his intestines felt like they'd been skewered over and over again and his prostate felt like it had been (unintentionally) been slammed so many times that the already sensitive tissue was overloading with the all the painful stimulation it was enduring.

Finally, it seemed all the over-stimulation and pain had triggered some sort of threshold and mercifully, he fell in to a state of hazy non-reality, away from himself and what was happening to him. He wasn't completely out, but it was enough to spare him from his personal Hell for a little while.

When he'd come back to himself and felt Sam near by, his whole body had veritably sagged in relief. Then, everything went to shit and his whole world turned upside down and Sam had gone Darkside and took from him what 27 years of hard living, unfathomable evil and never-ending personal loses hadn't managed to accomplish… Sam had ripped out his very soul and crushed it, just because he could…just because he wanted more from his big brother then Dean could ever or would ever give willingly. The tiny flame of hope and faith that had clung tenaciously to life inside him had guttered out and died forever. The moment Sam had forced his way inside his body, everything that made him who he was burned away leaving a shell of himself to deal with the aftermath.

Dean hadn't realized, even though he and Sam had practically lived in each other's pockets for years, just how big Sam was…He was practically walking around with a third leg in his pants and despite how wide he'd been torn open by God knew how many cocks and the ever growing size of the plugs shoved inside him, it still wasn't enough to prepare him for what came next. When the Sam rammed into the swollen, torn muscle and flesh, he ripped it so deep that Dean couldn't even breathe. As Sam began to jerk back and ram back in, Dean's body stopped working properly. He couldn't even scream out for the pain because his throat was already so torn and bleeding, all he could do was take in choked, wheezing breaths and let out soul-deep sobs that shook his entire body all the more.

Dean was so lost in the pain and betrayal that he didn't even notice when his hand slid open and the once beloved pendant dropped away to the ground into a pool of his own blood and god knew what else that coated the ground beneath him. He didn't hear most of the filthy words Sam was moaning and whispering to him, thankfully, nor did he feel Sam shifting his thrusting angle until he was mercilessly slamming into the already delicate tissue he had sought for. Sam battered Dean's prostate over and over again, sending spikes of overwhelming pain and pleasure through his already dangerously overwrought body. Inside his head, Dean was shattering, his mind tunneling down to black. The words 'No…not Sammy…not Sammy…please not Sammy… No NO NO!' began repeating endlessly. Then, all of a sudden, a brilliant explosion burst inside him and then everything faded to black.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry its taken me so long to update, but now that I have two jobs, I'm finding my enegry has been a little lackluster lately...So, SO Sorry! I'm updating now and hopefully I'll be able to et some more work done this week and get more posted up. Thanks for your patience everybody, I really do appreciate it!

P**lease, please, PLEASE Read & Review! (Reviews are my deep-fried crack…. ;) )**

Also, I have the links to my **Supernatural** line of jewelry I have for sale on eBay, including replicas of the **Mary Winchester Hunter's Protection Bracelet** (as seen in the episode **'In the Beginning'**) and the **Dean Winchester Skull Bracelet** (worn from **season 2 to present**), and other Supernatural-themed bracelets!

My newest piece is the **Castiel-themed "Have A Little Faith In Me"** charm bracelet. Please, check out the link and tell me what ya think!

I can provide links if you wish to see them, just let me know and I will get them to you!

I can also get a hold of replicas of the **Dean Winchester Protection Amulet**, if anybody is interested.

Thank you everybody for reading my work! *hugs* 


	7. Eternal Darkness of the Fucked Up Mind

Spn_Meme: Kink-Mpreg: Consort Of the Boy King 7/?

**Author's Note 1:**This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:

**_Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring._**

**_As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock._**

**_Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children._**

**Warnings! **This fic will contain:

**kink: hurt!dean, kink:bloodplay, kink: bondage, kink: dirtytalk, kink: biting, kink: knifeplay, kink: angst, kink: object pentration, kink: voyeurism, kink: mindfuck, kink: exhibition, kink: fingering, kink: evil!sam, kink: gangbang, kink: mpreg, kink: non-con, kink: sex magic, kink: slave/master, pairing: dean/multiple ofcs, pairing: dean/multiple omcs, pairing: dean/sam, supernatural, top!sam, wincest, bareback, bottom!dean, firsttime.**

**There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned!  
**

**Author's Note 2:** Okie dokie, kiddies…darkness at last…oh…but we have so much farther to go… *wicked laugh*

As always, this is not for profit, I do not own any characters or ideas from the show, I have merely created my own little world in which they are visiting. I'll give them back, Kripke…eventually…maybe…

**Chapter Seven:**

**Eternal Darkness of the Fucked up Mind**

Dean woke panting, his body in full panic mode, the lingering tendrils of the nightmare still wrapped tight around him. His system was bursting with adrenaline, forcing his sluggish system to full awareness. The night of the ritual was swirling through his mind as he remembered every single moment of that horror, interposed with all the times he had been touched and examined, whether he was conscious or not, without his consent since then. Something had finally just snapped and he knew that he just could not stand to be touched again. The hazy "days" were bad enough, panic/PTSD attacks creeping up on him at the slightest touch or even hearing certain sounds or voices could send him slamming back into the horror all over again. Now, now he had to contend with nightmares stealing into his mind, taking the only respite he had left away. He couldn't take it, he had to get away.

Dean bolted up out of bed, stumbling and weak-kneed, panting and wild-eyed as he grabbed hold of the furniture to balance his weak muscles enough to stumble away. He ripped out the IV's when he felt them tug him back toward the bed, not caring that he was now bleeding from the torn entry points. Dean frantically scanned the room in the low light as he looked for something to cover his naked body. He found a large closet, some of his clothes hanging inside and he immediately shoved himself inside the warmest sleep pants he could find and a worn but warm Henley that had once belonged to his father, but that he had stolen from him a long time ago. Even just the small task of getting dressed had left him exhausted, he realized, but he also realized that he was free and that this was possibly the only chance he may have to try to escape, so he pushed aside the exhaustion as he had so many times before and kept going. He pushed down the agony and ache every movement he made brought about, though he was pretty sure there must be some drugs still lingering in his system, otherwise he probably wouldn't have been able to move at all.

As he had covered himself, he had had to close his eyes, not wanting to see all the physical reminders on his body, his own personal souvenirs, of that night of Hell on earth. Once he had accomplished dressing, he began searching the room for anything he could use as a weapon. Finding nothing in the spare furnishings, he moved throughout the apartment, searching there as well, also without luck. He started looking for a way out instead. The place was locked up tight. Even the "windows", which weren't windows at all, were a bust because they merely shallow shafts of light covered by some sort of unbreakable glass. The adrenaline and tiny flicker of hope that had been fueling him fled him in a final flair of random violence. He punched and kicked the tv screen, smashed chairs and random small tables against the walls, beat against the unbreakable window shafts, etc… basically breaking or attempting to break anything he could get his hands on until he collapsed, completely spent. He shook with the lingering traces of adrenaline firing in his system and with the rage and despair welling inside him. His hands were bloodied by the bleeding gashes on his knuckles, the reopened wounds at his wrists, and the torn open places where the IV's had been. His wrists throbbed deeply and he knew that the already weakened fragile bones there were now most likely fractured or even broken. Unsteady and utterly spent, he drug himself into the farthest corner and curled in around himself as tears leaked heavily from his eyes. He cradled his throbbing wrists to his body, rocking slightly as he felt the despair and pain overwhelm him.

Dean had no idea how long he had cowered there in his corner when he heard a door open and close quickly and quietly, the electronic beep of an alarm sounding and the click of heavy locks engaging. The attendant that had just entered to check on him started into the room, but then, seeing the state that the room was in, the utter destruction around him, he began to creep warily around the space to locate his charge. When he found him, he reached out to the man, thinking maybe to grab him and take him back to bed. The moment he made contact, the man's bright, glassy, wild eyes sprang open and locked on him. The man batted his hand away roughly, then made to swing on the attendant. The attendant slid back just in time and began pacing around him, trying to dodge in and get a hold of the man to subdue him and get him back to resting but the man managed to evade him and had even come close to getting a hold of him, so he backed off completely, rapidly backing toward the exit until he far enough away to turn and run. He got to the door and out of it before the man had even been able to make much of a move toward it and locked it up tight before going for help.

Dean scrambled back to his corner, curling in tight. When the attendant had first come to him, had first touched him, his panic spiked into another adrenaline surge and he tried his hardest to capture the man and force him to tell him how to get out of here, even as the man was trying to capture and subdue him. He'd almost got a hold of him a couple of times, the last time had been a close call and the man must have realized it as well and he had backed away completely and bolted for the door before Dean could even get a couple feet in that direction. Cursing his own weak and useless body, he had slunk back down and all the emotions and fears that he had pushed down to fight had caught up with him again. His heart still raced and his mind was a jumbled mess of touches and the night of the ritual and of all the rapes and everything else that he couldn't seem to escape no matter how hard he tried.

Deep down, he knew the attendant would be back, probably with help, and the thought of so many people touching him again was sending him into a blind panic. He tried to keep it together, to calm himself down, but all of his previous, carefully built defenses were battered and broken and he couldn't stop himself from tensing and panting as the strands of reality and the past dove and swirled around his mind. He was little more than a feral animal at this point, his ability to think rationally was slipping away as he sunk down into the panic and fear and horror wrapping itself around him in a vice-like grip.

Distantly, he heard the metallic snick and the electronic beeps of the locks and a low whimper slipped from him as he heard heavy foot steps approaching. Suddenly they were before him and advancing on him, speaking in low, soothing tones that were supposed to calm him but instead had the opposite effect and made him all the more wild. A long moment later, Dean felt hands on him and he snapped, adrenaline surging through his ragged body once again and he lashed out, his hands and wrists screaming at him as they made contact with flesh and bone in his fight to rid himself of their touch. There were too many of them, though and he was too weak and broken to fight them off for long. And as his berserker state died out once again, they were able to get a hold of him and he tasted blood as he screamed out from his tortured throat. Dean didn't even feel the prick of the needle, but within moments, his world was fading fast into the bleak darkness once again.

Dean didn't know how long he was under this time, but as he drifted back to consciousness, he wished he had just stayed in the darkness forever. His eyes welled up with tears as he took in his predicament and surroundings. He was in the bed chamber again and there was no evidence that anything had ever been disturbed at all. Dean let his head loll down to see the weight that was pinning his wrists down. He saw that it was padded restraints with solid-looking chains snaking away from them to behind him somewhere. The chains tinkled softly as they rubbed against each other with each movement he made. A slight shift in his legs told him he had them on his ankles as well. Soft sobs bubbled up from him as he realized the fact that he was once again at their mercy and that there really was no escape from him. He was enslaved and bound here for eternity. Dean's eyes slipped closed again, burning with the fresh tears spilling from his still raw, inflamed eyes.

"You've been out for three days this time, Dean… Veran had to give you a pretty powerful sedative to make sure you stayed out long enough to really start to healing and we had to restrain you so you couldn't hurt yourself or anyone else, either. Dean, you have to stop…you have to let yourself get better, ok? Please?" Sam said softly.

Hearing Sam's voice, so soft and pleading, coming from the demonic rapist monster that he had become was another devastating reminder both of what he'd once had and of what he'd never have again. Dean rolled away from the achingly familiar voice, curling in on himself as he sobbed softly to himself. His chains tinkled softly as his sobs gently shook his body. His IV's were tugging slightly in his skin but he couldn't care less. He heard a deep sigh and a moment later, he felt the bed dip behind him. He tensed, his breathing picking up and he felt Sam's presence behind him. A few moments later, he felt Sam's huge hand on his back. Dean let out a choked gasp, his mind flashing back to the night of the ritual and he flinched harshly, dragging his legs even tighter to his chest.

"Don't…please don't…" he pleaded brokenly in a hoarse whisper, deep shudders chasing themselves across his body. Sam apparently didn't understand or just didn't care because he kept touching him, rubbing his back to try to soothe him. Dean curled impossibly tighter, rocking himself unconsciously as his sobs and shudders escalated to the point that utter exhaustion took him over and he didn't fight it as he slipped away, back into the darkness, Sam's touch lingering on endlessly in his nightmares and memories.

The next time he woke, it was in the same position, with the same view and he felt the tears prickling in his tender eyes as his own personal Hell was renewed all over again. It was like a nightmarish version of that movie "Ground Hog Day", only, there would be no happy ending for him. No, a happy ending was not in the cards for Dean Winchester.

he drifted off again and just like every time before, he prayed he'd never wake again. Except he did. He woke or was woke up by attendants plying him with food and drink, which he refused time and again, until one day, the High Priest and the Boy King stood, looming over him, eyes and bodies stern and foreboding as they made it clear that the four attendants behind them would pin him down and force the food and drink down his throat bit by bit until it was gone and that they would do so every single time until he chose to eat for himself. Dean cowered away from them, knowing that he couldn't endure that, couldn't stand to be so forcibly reminded of the night of the ritual again so, meek and resigned, he took the food. His hands shook as he lifted the bowl to his lips and allowed the rich broth to slip into his mouth and down his still raw throat. It hit his stomach like a sledgehammer from his not eating for so long and Dean felt extremely nauseous almost instantly. He set the bowl down quickly and curled in on himself as he tried to will his mutinous stomach to settle down.

"I feared as much…here, you must drink this down, my boy. It will help settle you again." The High Priest said as he held out a vial to Dean. When Dean didn't reach out to take it, he handed it to Sam instead.

"He needs to finish the broth and tea, my lord. We must rebuild his system and make it suitable for sustaining the children he will bear."

"Thank you, Veran. I'll tend to him now, you may go." Sam said, taking the vial.

"But of course, my lord. I am at your service." The High Priest said, he and the servants bowing deeply before their lord before taking their leave.

Sam sat on the bed beside Dean, facing him. He reached out to touch Dean's shoulder, which caused Dean to flinch deeply once again. Sam sighed deeply hating that his brother flinched at even his touch. Didn't he understand that he loved him and that he would never hurt him? Well, Sam decided, maybe that was something to think about and work on for another day. Right now, he needed to get Dean eating again. Gently, Sam lifted Dean onto his lap. Dean immediately began to protest the move and fight him.

"Settle down, Dean, unless you want me to call Veran and the attendants back in…" Sam said firmly, a hint of something dark and menacing unintentionally slipping into his voice and he said it.

Dean stilled as best he could at the command, though he wanted nothing more then to scramble away from the demonic bastard's touch. Even still, he certainly didn't want to be strapped down again after only just having got the padded restraints finally removed so recently, so, he let Sam place the vial to his lips and tip the liquid down his throat. Just like before, he was hit with the strong herbal taste, the bitter after-taste lingering in his mouth as the liquid slipped into his stomach and settled it almost instantly, just like before. Dean's eyes closed briefly in relief and his body began slowly uncoiling itself. Slowly, Dean pulled himself away from Sam a little bit. Shakily, he picked up the bowl and lifted it to his lips without even being prompted to by Sam because he that if he didn't, Sam would likely try to feed him and he couldn't bear to feel that helpless and forced again.

Sam didn't stop touching him, unfortunately. He kept making soothing noises and uttering encouragements as he rubbed Dean's back and shoulders. Those acts and Sam's presence was making Dean sick and nauseous for an entirely different reason then an upset stomach because the feel of any one touching him so intimately, especially the Boy King, made him down right ill and it brought about debilitating flashbacks of that horrible night all over again. As shaky and sick as he felt, he finally managed to finish both the broth and the tea. He still felt like shit, but he knew at least part of it was from not eating and drinking anything for so long and another big part was because of the stress and strain of being unwillingly touched and the memories it drudged up over and over again.

Distantly, Dean heard Sam's voice, speaking to him, though he couldn't really understand the words anymore, and nudging him to lay down and rest and so he did so, not fighting it as he collapsed down into the bedding and mattress. As much as he hated the vulnerability of being asleep, he was so damn exhausted from being on high alert and from the stress of the flashbacks and attacks all the time that his own body took over and took the choice form him. He was out for the count in moments.

When he awoke again, the next "day" he assumed, Sam was already gone again, which was just as well because he didn't want to be near him anyways. It went on like this for days, maybe even a week, though he really couldn't tell, nor did he really care at this point. Sam left in the early "mornings", leaving him alone with attendants coming and going to check on him for most of the day. When he was strong enough, he'd explored the apartment or quarters, or whatever more thoroughly, finding mostly nothing he really cared one way or another about except some of his own clothes and possessions, though obviously, none of his weapons. He found his father's journal, locked away inside a display case of some kind like it was some sort of goddamn trophy or prize or something. Dean had tried to break it free from its prison but the glass was too thick and strong and he couldn't break into it, no matter how hard he tried. He'd collapsed next to it, panting from exertion and wasn't surprised to feel the angry, frustrated tears slipping from his eyes. His father's memory was a prisoner forever now, too, just like him and that knowledge just made him cry all the harder. God, he was so damn weak and pathetic now, it made him sick…he couldn't bear the thought of what his father would think of him now, of what he'd think of the fact that he had failed to save his baby brother, failed to complete the last mission his father had ever given him, the most important mission of all. He was a fuck up…a failure…maybe…maybe he deserved what he'd become, maybe he was really as worthless as he'd always secretly thought he was. He thought that if his father could see what he'd become, that he'd never have made the deal to save him. He wasn't worth it and his father had paid the ultimate price for him for nothing. After that day, he'd avoided the case, unable to bear the crushing sense of shame and failure that the piece of John Winchester inside it always made him feel. He was nothing now. Nothing more than a bitch, a filthy brood mare for his own brother who had become the Boy King, heir of Hell and he himself was to bear the most evil child of all, probably many of them, if Sam had his way. He was to bear the Antichrist child. Life was just fucking awesome…

After who knew how long, the attendants came less and less often, once they saw that he was eating what they brought him. They mostly left him alone, not trying to touch him for the most part, so he began to settle into a routine. He would eat the meals, leaving the trays on the table near the door so they didn't have to come near him to retrieve them. He'd curl up on the corner of the L-shaped couch, his back to the wall so that he could see anyone approaching well in advance. They huge TV was on, always, not that he was actually paying attention to it, he merely kept it on for the noise and as a distraction from his own thoughts. There were many games and different game stations and movies and CD's lining the shelves around him, but, where once he would have felt like a kid in a candy store to have such things to play with, now, he cared for absolutely none it. He couldn't help but feel like they were presents given to a whore, a personal concubine of the king to placate and distract the person from questioning their lot in life. Even if he was to actively participate in his own life such as it was now, instead of drifting in the haze, he couldn't bring himself to ever touch those things that just served to reinforce what he was now.

So, he sat there, day after day, drifting in the haze, just present enough to track the people coming in and out of the space around him and to robotically eat what they brought him. For the first time in his life, Dean was still. In his life before, he'd always hated being still. He'd hated the emptiness of silence, too, which was why he had always had to be moving, always have noise around him, whether it was music or even his own humming, just any noise, really. Now though, he felt completely strung out and torn down to the quick and he just couldn't bear the too heavy emotions from pouncing on him if he started to think too much, so he tried not to think at all. He fought of the devastation in the only way he could, by keeping his mind blank and numb. It was the only way left for him to fight, now.

A/N: Ok, formatting issues fixed and a whole other chapter done that I will post soon, so okie dokie, my lovelies, enjoy!


	8. One Man's Trash Is Another's Treasure

Spn_Meme: Kink-Mpreg: Consort Of the Boy King 8/?

**Author's Note 1:**** This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme: kink-mpreg:**

_Grabbed by worshipers of the Boy King, Dean is set to be the main attraction in a summoning/consort perfecting ritual. Dean is tied to an altar and given something to drink that sets his body on fire, making him hard, but he isn't allowed to cum until the Boy King lets him so his cock is wrapped in a tight cock ring._

As part of the ritual, every believer gets a turn at fucking Dean – filling him with their cum, slicking his passage so they can plug Dean with larger and larger plugs, to keep all the cum in and to stretch his hole to receive the Boy King's large cock.

Bonus points: (1) Dean still believes Sam will "save" him until Sam becomes an active participant in the ritual; (2) Sam fucks Dean talking dirty and telling Dean how lovely Dean will look heavy with Sam's children.

**Warnings!** See first chapter, please.

There may be more warnings added later...but for now, you have been warned! 

**Author's Note 2:**Okie dokie, kiddies…darkness at last…oh…but we have so much farther to go… *wicked laugh*

As always, this is not for profit, I do not own any characters or ideas from the show, I have merely created my own little world in which they are visiting. I'll give them back, Kripke…eventually…maybe…

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**Chapter Eight:**

**One Person's Trash Is Another Man's Treasure…**

One day, while Dean was curled in his usual corner of the couch, the door beep and clicked open, not really unusual, because attendants were in and out several times a day, but this time was different, he just didn't know it yet. Instead of an attendant, it was the High Priest himself that had come again. That, in and of itself did not bode well, Dean thought, because every time he came near him, it meant something painful, terrifying and horrible was about to happen to him. Dean immediately tensed, curling in tighter as the High Priest came to sit near him. Dean was practically shaking, the anticipation of whatever was coming next was making him feel sick again. After staring at him for a long moment, seemingly examining him like some bug under a microscope, the High Priest finally spoke.

"I am gladdened to see that you are looking well, my son. You had us all very worried for your well being as well as the baby's. I truly did not want to be have to force you to eat and take care of yourself. It would have been so stressful and unhealthy for the child and yourself to have to go that route but, thankfully, it became unnecessary. That is very good news, my boy, very good indeed. I have been meaning to come check on you for some time, my child, but things have been a bit mad here as of late so it has taken me a bit longer than I would have liked to stop by. The reason for my visit is actually two-fold: I wanted to check on your well-being and I also wanted to return this to you..." Veran said, holding out his palm in which something sat coiled.

Dean didn't have to lean forward and look to recognize exactly what the older man held in his hand. He would never in his life be able to forget the object the priest held out to him. It was his pendant. The pendant he had worn for 15 years of his life, a beloved present from the person that had mattered most, that he had loved most in the world: Sam. Seeing that once cherished object again now made him curl in tighter, his body rocking with sickness at the very thought of having it near him. It was a devastating reminder of everything he had lost, everything he had tried so hard to forget so that he could even function on the most basic levels any more. He turned away from it and began to sob.

"No…" he whispered, "…I don't want it anymore…" Dean choked out.

Veran studied him, head tilting in puzzlement. The boy had fought tooth and nail to hold on to the necklace the night of the ritual. When the attendants had brought it to him after they had cleaned the ritual room, he had assumed it had been dropped accidently in the heat of the moment when the Boy King had consummated with his Consort that night. He didn't understand why the boy wouldn't want back something that had obviously been highly important to him.

"But it is yours, my child. You fought to keep it during the ritual. It seemed to give you some measure of peace and strength that night, so why would you not want it back now?"

Dean was shaking, that night swarming back over him once again. He couldn't take it. He snatched the abominable object from the priest's hand and threw it as far away from him as he could as he screamed out in rage.

"I don't want it! I never want to see it again, ever! It means NOTHING to me now! Leave! Take the damnable thing with you and throw it away, destroy, I don't care!" Dean screamed before bolting off the couch for the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Veran was terribly confused, but clearly, the boy was highly agitated at the moment and rather then causing more stress to the boy and the child, he decided to take his leave. He would talk to the Boy King and see if he couldn't figure out what was wrong. Veran stood and strode toward the door, stopping to retrieve the pendant as he left. As he was about to walk away from the Boy King and Consort's quarters, the Boy King himself came around the corner. '_What a convenient happenstance_' he thought, for now he wouldn't have to interrupt the lord's busy schedule later on.

"Good day, my lord."

"Good day, Veran. What brings you by?" Sam asked, slightly concerned and hoping something hadn't happened with Dean again. He had been doing much better for a while and Sam hoped he would keep going on that track.

"Truthfully, my lord, I came to check on the Consort. I have been meaning to stop in and check on his health for a little while now. I was gladdened to see he is well again finally. I also came to return this, my lord. The attendants found it when they cleaned the ritual room and I have been meaning to bring it by for sometime now. I apologize that is has been so long, my lord. The Consort seemed rather attached to it the night of the ritual, in fact he had been ready to fight the attendant that tried to take it from him that night. I allowed him to keep it with him, I saw no harm in it and it seemed to give him comfort and strength to hold on to it during the ritual." Veran said, pausing.

"My God, Dean's pendant! I can't believe I didn't realize he didn't have it! Thank you so much for returning it, Veran. I'm sure Dean will be so relieved to have it back. It's something I gave him a long time ago and he's never been without it since! Thank you so much!" Sam practically gushed with happiness and relief.

Veran frowned, a deep crease breaking across his forehead, which in turn made Sam's grin slip a little and a worried crease of his own appeared.

"What is it, Veran?" Sam asked, worry creeping into him once again.

"Well my lord, when I tried just now to return the pendant to the Consort, he got very agitated and wouldn't take it. When I tried to question him as to why he wouldn't take something that had obviously been important to him, he became even more agitated. He grabbed it from me and threw it. He said he didn't want it, that he never wanted to see it ever again and that I should throw it away or destroy it, he didn't care which and then he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Rather than risking agitating him more and possibly harming him or the child with the stress it could cause him, I decided to take my leave and bring it to you at a later date. I happened upon you just now and it seemed like the opportune moment to hand it over to you and explain what had happened with your Consort." Veran said.

Sam swallowed hard. Dean had tried to throw away something that had seemingly always meant so much to him. Sam was having a hard time reconciling Dean turning away something the he had once admitted was utterly precious to him, something Sam had given to him with absolute love and had been thrilled and honored when Dean had kept it with and on him always. It just didn't make sense. Sam was hurt that Dean had suddenly decided he didn't want it any more. '_How could he just throw it away like it meant nothing to him?_' Sam thought. '_I don't know what the Hell is going on but I'm sure it has to be a mistake…Dean could never be that hurtful on purpose, not to me…It has to just be some kind of misunderstanding, that's all…_' Sam decided. He held out his hand to take the pendant and looked on it for a long moment.

"Thank you, Veran. I'll get to the bottom of it." Sam said quietly, glancing up at the High Priest for a moment before nodding his ascent that the older man could take his leave. Veran bowed deeply.

"As you wish, my lord" he said as he took his leave.

Sam entered his quarters, puzzled and a little hurt. He knew Dean couldn't have meant it. He had probably just been lashing out. Dean didn't like Veran very much, that much was pretty obvious by how he acted around the older man. Also, Dean was still adjusting to their new life. Sam had known Dean would struggle with it at first, he had known Dean would probably be stir crazy and surly and temperamental because of the restrictions he now lived under. No more driving the Impala, no more hunting or random diners or random women… Sam knew Dean was a bit of a nomad and free spirit so he had been prepared for Dean to fight him on all the changes they had had to make recently and Dean had fought him. He had fought hard and Sam hadn't been really that surprised that he had lashed out, he had only been somewhat surprised by the paths that Dean had taken to lash out. Sam had always know that Dean felt things very deeply, he'd just always been very good at hiding and burying his emotions. As of late, Dean had shown more emotion then Sam had ever seen and although it had been rough, Sam had been gladdened that his brother had finally started to let some of them out instead of bottling them up inside and letting them fester.

Sam decided that his big brother's emotions had just gotten the better of him that day and he'd said and done things he hadn't really meant, like that time that Dean had punched him during the hunt they had paired up with Gordon Walker on before realizing what a raging fucking psycho he was. Relief flooded Sam. '_That must be it._' he thought. Sam looked at the pendant lovingly for a moment, taking in the sad state of the leather thong that had held it close to his brother's body for so long. It was tattered and broken now. Sam tsked to himself, thinking that that just wouldn't do. It was then that a brilliant idea struck him. He'd already been planning to give his big brother something special, something he'd seen when he had had to study for various elective classes while going for his law degree, now so long ago. The idea had stuck with him, sitting in the back of his mind all this time until he had taken on the mantel of Boy King and had taken Dean as his Consort and it just became something he had longed to see that he could finally make happen.

Sam smiled, the mere thought of what he was going to do making him excited and very happy. Sam put the beloved object away for now. He let Dean stew in the bathroom for a bit, letting him cool down. He knew Dean needed space sometimes and he was going to give it to him for right now. Sam set about putting his plan and ideas on paper. Tomorrow, he had a very special stop to make. In the mean time, he settled into the couch and patiently waited for his beloved to join him for the night.

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A/N: Ok! Another chapter for y'all, just in time for the holiday! So...Happy Thanksgiving!

As always, please check out my profile for my awesome Supernatural jewelry and collectibles!


	9. Consort of the Boy King chapter response

some of you, my lovely readers, have questioned Sam's lack of sense and understanding concerning Dean and what he's done to him, but hang in there, I promise I will make things clear if you hang in there with me. love u all *waves and hug s*


	10. Gift That Keeps On Giving

**Spn_Meme: Kink-Mpreg: Consort Of the Boy King 9/?**

**Author's Note 1:****This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme. Please see previous chapters for the prompt and warnings.**

**Author's Note 2:**** Okie dokie, my lovlies! I am back and I have prezzies! I have an rare opportunity to sit down and write again for a few days and I, knowing they were coming, had been thinking about this story and a few others quite a bit! The time has come and I have gotten some work done with my writing and I am happy to say that I FINALLY have more fic for you to read! I thank each and every one of you that have stuck with me and gently nudged me and encouraged me to write again. From the bottom of my heart, thank you! I hope you are able to enjoy what I have written for you. **

**As always, this is not for profit, I do not own any characters or ideas from the show, I have merely created my own little world in which they are visiting. I'll give them back, Kripke…eventually…maybe…**

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**Chapter Nine:**

**Gifts That Keep On Giving…**

Dean had brooded in the bathroom for quite some time before slinking out. Once he saw that Sam was home he sagged visibly and turned away, heading into the bedroom and pulling the door closed behind him without ever even looking directly at Sam. Sam was still a bit hurt by the outburst that Veran had told him about but he didn't want to fight with Dean and overwhelm and stress him out even more, so he let his brother slink away without comment. Sam felt his brother's absence deeply and he was hard pressed not to go after Dean and either make him come out and sit with him or go into the room to be with him. He sat, not really mindful of what was playing on the TV, thoughts swirling through his head on a multitude of topics, but ultimately, Dean was his main focus. Sam sighed deeply and decided that the couple of hours he'd given his brother after he had slunk off was all the older man was going to get for the night. He missed Dean and he wanted to be near him so, he made himself a mental list of all he would need to do the next day, including the special pit stop he needed to make and then, he grabbed a quick snack and a glass of water then cleaned up the area and headed off to the bedroom to be with his brother.

Dean was curled up tight, which was a departure from they way he had slept throughout most of his life but which had become his normal sleeping position as of late. The bed was massive, hand-picked by himself of course, and he and Dean could stretch out on it and still have room, but Dean didn't take advantage of the space he now had access to that they had never had when they were living out of motel rooms and crappy, cramped apartments growing up. So, although Dean's new sleeping position confused him, he didn't hassle his big brother about it because it was just a pointless little thing that he didn't need to bring up. Dean was a big boy and how he wanted to sleep was his business. Sam stripped down to his boxer briefs and t-shirt and slipped into the comfy, plush bed behind his brother. He sidled in behind his brother's body and slung an arm over his side, his massive palm landing softly on Dean's tummy. He rested his head on the pillow beside his brother's and let himself sink down into comfort, breathing in his brother's familiar and comforting scent.

Dean hadn't been able to get control of his fractured self for a very long time after the priest had left. He had trying to slip back into the mindless, hazy state he usually resided in, but he wasn't having much luck. Seeing that all too familiar trinket had brought such huge, sweeping memories and emotions flooding through him that he got lost in them for a long, long time. They crushed down on him from all sides, all of the good memories that lingered around the pendant were starting to become entangled with new, terrible ones and it was heartbreaking and exhausting as they clashed against each inside himself. Nothing he had known, nothing he had had, nothing he remembered would ever be the same. Everything was colored in a new, darker light, one swirled with pain and terror and utter despair. When Dean had finally managed to crawl out from under the terrible weight of the memories enough to drag himself out of hiding, he came out to find that Sam was home. The crushing weight that he was always under these days seemed to weigh on him all the more tonight and he knew he couldn't bear to be near the monster that had brought this state upon him right now so he drug himself into the bedroom and closed the door after him. He prayed that he wouldn't be followed and have the demon bastard's presence forced on him, and for a while, he was left alone in his misery. The brief respite came to an end, though, seemingly mere moments later, though he could tell from the clock that it actually had been several hours, as Sam came into the room. Dean sank even further into the bed, curling in tighter to himself. He wished he could go somewhere else, anywhere else, but he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide now. He felt the monster creep in closer, heard it shuffle around as shucked out of its clothes and then it pulled back the covers and crawled in behind him. Dean, already tense and on high alert, tensed even further, wanting nothing more then to crawl away from everything right then, most especially the Boy King, but he wasn't given either the chance, nor the choice as he was suddenly surrounded by long, massive limbs, and the feeling of its breath ghosting over his own ear and throat from behind.

Dean's eyes snapped shut and he couldn't help the hot, helpless tears that slipped from the shackling cages of his lashes. He was holding himself so taut he was almost shaking as he tried to fight the awful memories of that horrid night and of so many times that had followed. He was having a hard time breathing as he tried to endure the unwanted touch of his rapist, so many memories and fears and emotions swarming over him and driving themselves deep inside his body and mind and he knew he was fighting a losing battle to stay in the present. Finally, something switched off in his mind and he tumbled away from everything and into the darkness that seemed to be the only counterpoint to his living nightmare.

Sam had felt Dean's body tense as he slid around him. He had started to rub his hand over Dean's chest and arm to soothe him but he could feel Dean's rapid breathing and he was pretty sure Dean was having an attack or waking nightmare again, so he held on tighter, trying to help his brother through it as best he could. Nightmares seemed to haunt his brother throughout his life. He himself was no stranger to nightmares, and not even talking about the vision nightmares, either, but just ones supplied or bolstered by the lives they'd led. Dean hadn't had them for a while, at least not since he'd had to go back to their old house to work that poltergeist case, then he'd had a small bout of them, but then they'd been gone again. They had come screaming back after their father had died, though Sam had thought they were tapering off again, but then they had returned with a vengeance after the ritual night so, maybe they would be sticking around for a while this time. At least this time, Sam could be there to help his brother through them. God knows what Dean had had to suffer through by himself while he had been at college and their father had been off hunting by himself, leaving Dean behind, yet again… Sam wished with all his heart that he could take away the pain and sadness that gripped his brother during these times, but he couldn't so he did the only thing he could do and offered comfort and shelter until Dean found his way through them on his own.

The next morning, Sam reluctantly slipped from around his brother's limp body, bending to place a kiss on his temple before dragging himself into the bathroom and into the shower. He took his time, enjoying the unending hot water that they had in their suite, so much better then the filthy, luke-warm showers they'd made do with growing up. He never had to worry about using all the hot water again and it was wonderful! Sam grabbed the soap and began lather the rich suds over his body. His fingers swept lower and lower, finally slipping into the trimmed, wiry curls in the cut-in V of muscles that lead to his cock and balls. Sam groaned as he circled and tugged through the patch until he'd made his way to his shaft. He lathered all around the thick length, cupping and stroking over his sack, letting his fingers trail slightly lower to that sensitive skin just behind them, letting his fingers tease and touch and slick over the area for a bit before he finally circled back up to his cock again, taking the half-hard organ in his slick, soapy fist and giving it nice long, slow strokes to bring it more firmly to life. As he stroked the rapidly hardening flesh, he couldn't help but picture his brother in his mind. Dean's lips wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling and teasing at the underside as he swallowed the thick flesh down, his gorgeous eyes peering up into Sam's own as he worked his lover's flesh to completion… Dean, pinned to the mattress as he pounded him through it, bucking and thrusting back into Sam's body as he was pounded into… Dean screaming out as Sam made him come over and over again… Gods, Sam wasn't gonna last long at this rate. He moaned deeply as he pictured the many different ways he couldn't wait to have his brother's body, stroking his cock harder, twisting over the tip to gather the precome and slick up his cock just that little bit more. Sam was bucking into his fist, image after image of his beautiful brother, his husband, flashing through his brain until he felt his balls draw up and he rapidly tipped over the edge into bliss.

Sam shudder as he painted the wall of the shower with shot after shot of come, stroking himself through his orgasm and after until the sensation became too much and he had to let go. He stood there for a good while, letting his rapidly beating heart and panted breaths calm down, bracing himself well to counteract the weakness he felt in his knees after such a strong orgasm. Dean had always made him come so hard, even before he'd actually been able to touch him. Sam couldn't imagine things getting any better then that but then he'd actually _had_ Dean and now he knew better. Sam smiled as he let himself drift in a haze, picturing how his and Dean's life would be now that they were finally together. A short while later, after Sam had pulled himself together enough to finish his shower, he got out and got ready to leave for the day as usual.

Before left for the day, he slipped back in the room to check on his lover one more time, content to see him sleeping at least somewhat restfully. Sam gathered the small package he'd put Dean's amulet into the night before and strode out of the apartment, a bit earlier then usual, to run an errand before he went to deal with the daily problems that came with being the Boy King.

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A.N. So, sorry this is such a short chapter, but, if all goes to plan, I will have a few more chapters in the next few days!

As always, remember to ask me about my line of Supernatural jewelry and gifts!


	11. 3 Weeks,4 Days & God Knew How Many Hours

**Author's Note 1:****This entry is a response for the prompt made over at the Spn_hardcore meme. Please see previous chapters for the prompt and warnings.**

**Author's Note 2:**** Okie dokie, my lovlies! Back again with more prezzies! I have had the rare opportunity to sit down and write again for the few days and I, knowing they were coming, had been thinking about this story and a few others quite a bit! The time has come and I have gotten some work done with my writing and I am happy to say that I FINALLY have more fic for you to read! I thank each and every one of you that have stuck with me and gently nudged me and encouraged me to write again. From the bottom of my heart, thank you! I hope you are able to enjoy what I have written for you. **

**As always, this is not for profit, I do not own any characters or ideas from the show, I have merely created my own little world in which they are visiting. I'll give them back, Kripke…eventually…maybe…**

**Oh and by the way... this may be triggery for people as it contains non-con, so please, READER BE WARNED!**

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**Chapter Ten:**

**Three weeks, four days, and God knew how many hours, give or take…**

One evening, not long after the incident with the High Priest and the amulet, Dean was sitting on the couch, blank and limp, TV blaring on mindlessly in front of him, as per usual. And, also as per usual, he had his knees drawn up under his chin, curling around himself to make himself the smallest target possible. He registered distantly that Sam had returned. He knew the demon liked to take a shower after a day of "work", and God knew what "work" entailed for him, but he didn't do that today. After a while, Dean registered that Sam was sitting down next to him on the couch. Usually, Sam sat closer to the opposite end of the couch and didn't bother him too much. Tonight though, the atmosphere felt different around him and even as deep as Dean liked to drift, he felt the shift of it and began dragging himself warily to the surface. When the demon bastard wearing Sam's face turned more toward him, placing a hand on his knee and slowly sliding it up his thigh, Dean knew what was happening. He instantly tensed, adrenaline starting to slam through his body. He flinched, jerking away hard as the flashbacks and panic began to rip through him all over again. Undeterred, Sam just moved in even closer, his other hand reaching to wrap around the back of his neck and that was it, Dean just snapped!

Dean put both of his palms to Sam's chest and shoved as hard as he could, catching the bastard off guard and knocking him back far enough that he got free and bolted away like a frantic and frightened rabbit. Sam recovered quickly though, and in seconds, he was on him, grabbing him from behind roughly with his lengthy, well-muscled arms. He surrounded Dean's body, crushing his arms to his sides as he bodily lifted him and walked him rapidly toward the bedroom. In no time at all, Dean felt himself being dropped unceremoniously to the bed even as he was still struggling like mad to get away. He was never given the chance though, because soon enough, he was pressed into the mattress by Sam's massive form, the sound of a deep chuckle and low words spoken next to his ear hitting him hard the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

"Somebody's feisty tonight…" Sam said, chuckling deeply again.

Dean's panic was absolute now as the full realization of what he was about to endure hit him like a ton of bricks. He gave a half shriek, half whimper and struggled harder as Sam pinned his wrists down above him with one of his massive palms. His still tender wrists protested as the bones ground together from the force. Sam growled at his struggles, his face pressed next to his ear and throat, the hot air he breathed out and the rumbling vibration of his low growl making Dean shudder hard.

"MMMmmmm…Somebody wants to play rough tonight, huh? God big brother, that is so fucking hot…" Sam purred into his brother's ear.

Dean let out a choked whimper at these words. He felt Sam's tongue flick over the shell of his ear in little kitten licks, making his way down to his lobe, licking and nipping at the sensitive dangle of flesh for a few moments before moving on to his throat below it. Dean shuddered and kept struggling as Sam's other hand wandered over his body, stroking and squeezing his flesh possessively. Flashbacks of the ritual night kept slamming through him, making the present and the past flicker and shift around him. Finally, as Sam leaned away and roughly tugged off his meager clothes, leaving Dean naked and exposed in every way, Dean finally broke down completely.

"Don't…please don't… Please… Please…" Dean begged, whimpering, his broken voice barely a whisper. He couldn't go through this again… he just couldn't…

Sam pressed his face close to his big brother's ear and throat again, nuzzling gently. "Shhhh baby…gonna make you feel good… so good big brother, I promise…" he said in a whispered growl.

Dean's eyes slammed shut and he turned away, sobbing silently as he felt his naked skin be stroked and touched all the more roughly. Dean's breathing hitched as the demon pried his clenched thighs apart and settle between them, his hand continuing up his inner thigh, his meaty palm prying the clenched cheeks apart to stroke the rough pad of his finger over the furled muscle between. Dean tried to clench down even tighter when he felt the finger slip between to stroke over the scarred, sensitive, barely healed flesh at his entrance. He struggled weakly, a strangled moan escaping his lips as the pad circled the tender flesh a few times before the dry, rough tip was pressed inside. Dean hissed at the burn of the intrusion, tensing at tight as a bow string as the dry digit was pressed in to the 1st knuckle.

"God…still so fucking tight for me big brother… Gonna feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock again, baby…" Sam moaned out.

Dean's voice all but left him as the intruding digit was tugged roughly from of his body. Dean tried to go some place safe inside himself as he felt the finger return, slick and wet, pressing back inside him and forcing its way even deeper than before. Distantly, Dean felt it being plunged in and out of him roughly for a while before it was tugged free again, then, moments later, it returned with a slick companion. Dean heard himself hiss and groan as the thick digits bullied their way in, forcing the protesting muscles apart as they were pressed and out, scissoring open to stretch the muscles even further, prying him open from the inside out. Before he could even adjust, those too were pulled free and Dean felt the blunt, heavy pressure of three fingers pressed to the tight ring of quivering muscles until they were finally forced inside as well, despite his body's desperate attempt to stop them. Dean gasped at the over whelming burn and pain as the thick digits probed and spread themselves wide inside him as they were rammed in and out of him over and over again. After a brief, indeterminate amount of time, Dean felt the intruders tugged free once again and even though he had tried hard to find someplace safe inside himself to hide, he hadn't completely succeeded because even in his currently muddled state, he knew what was coming next and he tensed impossibly tighter with the flood of abject fear that rocketed through him again.

Dean felt like he was drowning in the fear, the flashbacks and present merging and blurring then pulling apart from each other only to rejoin each other over and over again. He felt a blunt, impossibly immense pressure at his entrance as he was pressed harder into the mattress beneath him. The demon's face was pressed to his ear, breath ghosting over it as the blunt head of the massive shaft battened down relentlessly at the opening. The straining muscles finally giving under the strain and the shaft slid inside slightly with a pop. Dean screamed out at the brutal penetration. He was pretty sure the voice next to his ear was speaking, whispering words to him, but he couldn't concentrate enough through the haze of terrible pain to understand what was being said, and, frankly, he really didn't care.

"Shhhhh… relax baby…. Gotta relax, big brother… Gotta relax for me, ok?" Sam murmured.

Dean shuddered harder as he felt the massive shaft being pressed relentlessly deeper into his unyielding body. Dean felt it shift back briefly before it was brutally rammed forward again. Dean choked and panted in a desperate attempt to breathe, the panic and pain felt like they were crushing his lungs. He felt it shift back and ram back in over and over again as he was pounded into again and again. Dean felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out by the massive organ forcing its way ever deeper inside him. It must have bottomed out at some point, because he felt the body blanketing him pressed right up close to his body, stilling its movements for a long moment and just laying on him.

More than anything in the world, Dean wanted to just slip away from existence and never come back. The night of the ritual swarmed over him and he just went limp with defeat and despair. It was that night all over again and it wasn't… he felt phantom touches and savage pain all over once again but it was slightly muted this time, tempered with the pain and feelings of the present. Dean felt the body above him begin to move again, in earnest this time, pumping in and pulling out hard and fast. Distantly, he realized that it was his brother doing this to him, hurting him like this and he was crushed anew with the betrayal of it all. Dean closed his and tried to will himself to slip away. He'd almost managed it when he felt Sam shift to a different angle as he slammed inside and then he felt a sudden bolt of white-hot pleasure as what he could only think had to be his prostate being stimulated by the rock-hard shaft pummeling away inside him. Dean couldn't help but gasp as it happened again and again. Sam pulled him up onto his knees, his face still pressed into the mattress, and letting go of his wrists in favor of pressing his huge palm to the center of his upper back to keep him pinned down still. Sam's other hand was gripped bruisingly tight at his hip, pulling his body back as he thrust forward, making each savage stroke penetrate that much deeper.

Dean felt shame burn fiercely inside himself as pleasure swirled madly in the muddled and vast pool of things he was already feeling because, God help him, his body was responding to the unwanted pleasure Sam was forcing upon him. He felt his cock shamefully strain and drip with precome as it throbbed in time with Sam's thrusts. Dean sobbed silently again at that because he didn't want it, he didn't want this but his disobedient, asshat of a body obviously did and it was getting its own way, whether he personally wanted it or not. Dean felt the hand that had been pinning him down shift again, this time slipping down around his ribcage and chest, down his abdomen until it brushed over his aching cock. Sam grazed over the straining organ lightly for a moment before closing around it in a vice-like grip and began stroking harshly, keeping pace with his thrusts. Dean gripped down tight on the edge of the bed as the demon wrung bolt after bolt of unwanted pleasure from him. He whimpered brokenly as he felt a massive, mind-blowing orgasm start to build inside him, coiling deep in his gut. He fought desperately to deny it, to stamp it out and stop it from coming, but it just kept building and when it finally ripped through him, his body seized brutally hard, making him unable to even breathe. Darkness sparkled at the edges of his vision for a few long moments before it grew bigger, its sucking tendrils crashing over and through him until they had him surrounded and then he was being drug away into the darkness. He sank down into with relief, not fighting it as he felt himself slip away completely with one final shudder of surrender.

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**A.N.** Another chappie! Yay for me! We are trucking right along, here people! Hopefully, there will be a bit more story to come before I am done with this gig...


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